


Breaking Point

by Rybe



Series: Putting the Pieces Back Together [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Banter, Bros bein' bros, Drama, Fluff and Angst, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Love Conquers All, M/M, Romance, and other things, brothers in arms, ilu gabe, that's why i'm doing terrible things to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-08-09 21:56:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 77,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7818754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rybe/pseuds/Rybe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before the fall of Overwatch, Gabriel Reyes finds himself in a new and wonderful relationship with his best friend, while everything else seems to crumble around him. Many years later, after the recall, Soldier 76 and the rest of Overwatch manage to capture Reaper, and are faced with the difficult decision of what to do with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“The way’s clear,” Ana’s voice called quietly over the com. 

“Acknowledged. We’re going in. Initiate radio silence.”

Soldier 76 hefted his strange gun. His usual weapon was strapped to his back, just in case. This was a special, stealth mission. Usually stealth was not his specialty, especially considering the glowing visor, but there was no way in hell he’d be left out of this operation.

They were finally going to capture Reaper. 

A couple of the new whiz kids managed to intercept some encrypted transmissions, unnoticed. For once, they were a step ahead. After months of ambushes and Reaper being one step ahead, they’d finally get the drop on him. And Winston had devised a way to take him alive...Most likely. 

He should be in the center of this warehouse, which served as an impromptu home base for the latest band of thugs he’d taken up arms with. He should be monitoring their mission status from inside. Why he wasn’t going personally was anyone’s guess. It raised some suspicions among the team, but not enough to stop the operation. 

76 looked to Tracer, gave her a quick nod and signaled for her to move out. She returned a sharp nod, and blinked out of sight, Morrison creeping slowly after her. 

Jack felt like his heart was in his throat. He’d run hundreds of missions, hell, probably thousands by this point, and never felt this anxious. Then again he’d never set out to try and capture a friend before. A former friend. Who was he kidding? He and Reyes had been far more than simple friends. The news that Reyes had been killed devastated him. He’d been unable to focus on anything but his grief for weeks, months...it was like a piece of him had been torn away. 

Though now, he wasn’t sure which pain was worse. The thought of Gabriel’s death, or knowing he was still alive and so very changed. Jack had to know what happened to him. 

The group crept through the darkened warehouse. Tracer and a few others taking point, silently appearing behind and neutralizing any stray guards they located. It was all going according to plan. 

Finally they found him. A black hooded figure standing in front of a monitor sitting on a folding table that sagged under the weight of one too many computer and server boxes. He seemed to be fully engrossed in whatever he was doing, leaned over a keyboard, pecking away angrily at it, an impressive feat considering his large, clawed gloves. Most notable of all, Reaper’s twin shotguns lay on a flimsy chair a few paces away, completely unattended. Morrison almost couldn’t believe his eyes. He caught Tracer’s attention, and made a few quick hand signals, gesturing to the guns. She grinned back and signed her acknowledgement. She rubbed her hands together, and blinked out of view. 

“Cheers, Love!” Tracer chimed, a Cheshire cat grin on her face as she hefted the two shotguns, which looked absurdly large compared to her tiny frame. Reaper whipped around, probably about jumping out of his skin at the woman’s sudden appearance. 

As quickly as Tracer appeared, she vanished with the guns. 76 sprang out of his hiding place with a perfect shot of Reaper’s back, and fired. Dozens of electrified pellets flew out, showering over Reaper, forming a sparking net. For a second, it looked like Winston’s contraption was working, as the pellets began to form a cohesive force cage around the man...until Reaper melted into the floor, and reappeared behind 76.

“Hello again, Jack,” that low, eerie voice rumbled from behind Reaper’s mask as he lunged. The two grappled over the gun for a moment, Morrison managing to slam Reaper up against an empty shipping container. He felt momentarily triumphant: he almost never bested Reyes in hand to hand combat, until he realized that was exactly where Reaper wanted him to be. 

“You’re in the way, 76, I don’t have a clean shot!” Ana’s voice barked over the com. Reaper suddenly twisted, grabbing Morrison and in a blinding motion dragged the both of them inside the empty crate, safe from sniper fire, only one exit, cornered, but covered. Reaper tossed Morrison like a rag doll, leaving the soldier sprawled on his face, and ripped the gun from his back. 

_Shit! He’s armed!_ Morrison spun, aiming Winston’s gun, just in time to see the barrel of his own pulse rifle pointed at his face. Then something happened. Reaper hesitated. And Jack didn't. 76 engaged the secondary fire on the gun, Winston warned him the secondary fire could drop an elephant, and more than stop a normal man’s heart. It was a last resort. Jack held his breath and hoped for the best.

Reaper’s body went ridged as what looked like a hundred taser darts lodged into his chest. He let out a strangled noise before clattering to the ground. Jack scrambled forward as Reaper’s body went slack and motionless. He tried to feel for a pulse, but the kevlar body suit effectively blocked his neck. He reached for Reaper’s mask, though this time it was his turn to hesitate. _What happened to you? What am I going to find under here?_

“76, wait.” Mercy’s voice came in over the com. She was monitoring the mission through Jack’s visor. “I’ve got a read on his vitals. They’re...strange, but he’s alive. I’m worried that mask might be doing something to help stabilize him. It’s best to leave it on until I get an in person look at him.”

Jack leaned back, acknowledging quietly, his hands shaking. He desperately wanted to tear that mask off, but there was a nagging fear of what could be underneath...Ana wouldn’t tell him what she saw. So it would remain a mystery for a short time longer.

Tracer blinked into the entrance of the shipping container, all smiles, still carrying the two shotguns. “We did it! Hooray!- And am I mistaken, or did he call you Jack?”

76 nodded slowly, getting to his feet. “I’m afraid so.”

“A friend of yours?” Tracer quipped, a wide smirk still on her lips, though it slowly faded, seeing the look on Jack’s face.

“Yeah. And of yours.”

“Beg your pardon?”

Jack gestured at Reaper’s unconscious form with his gun, half afraid the man would spring up at any moment, or turn into a black fog. They hadn’t told the team yet. They didn’t want it interfering with the mission... “It’s...Reyes.”

Chatter exploded over the com. 76 quickly muted it. Tracer just stared at him, then down at Reaper, and back again, slack jawed. “This...THIS is Reyes? He was dead!”

“So was I.”

Tracer stared down at the unconscious wraith, her features sagging with sadness.

“What...what happened to him?”

Jack shook his head sadly, kneeling next to his old companion’s unconscious form, staring at the mask, trying to catch any glimpse of what lay beneath.

“I don’t know.”

***

Laughter and cheers rang out through the hotel bar, as the members of the joint Overwatch/Blackwatch task force celebrated their victory. But Reyes didn’t feel like celebrating. He stood at the bar, staring blankly at the drink menu, seething. It had been an emergency operation, usually there wouldn’t be a joint mission like this. The two groups didn’t even train together anymore, but too many operatives from both organizations were out on assignment. This had been an emergency, they gathered who they could, and charged in half blind.

The two groups emerged from the operation victorious and with barely a handful of injuries among them. It really was cause for celebration.

Lena appeared at Reyes' side. She offered him a gentle nudge with her elbow and a sad, understanding smile. If anyone understood why he was upset, it was her.

“Cheer up love, we all made it out, didn’t we?” She said, leaning on the bar, studying Reyes’ face. She was the reason the operation nearly ended in disaster. But it wasn’t her fault. She did her job perfectly. Just sometimes the enemy can outmaneuver you even when you make no mistakes. No. The operation nearly going to hell was Jack’s fault.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been under Morrison’s command. While it did chafe him, that wasn’t a huge problem. He could respect the chain of command. The two had been friends a long time, Reyes respected Morrison’s abilities. Most of the time. Besides, the promotion was all bureaucracy and politics anyway. The blond twit had a level of charisma Reyes lacked. Anyone with two eyes could recognize that, including Gabriel. Reyes was simply too threatening for politicians to feel safe dealing with. Too direct. To a degree it suited him just fine, he hated dealing with their kind as much as they hated dealing with him.

It started when Tracer’s chronal accelerator had been hit by a piece of shrapnel while she was in the center of the enemy stronghold. It left her stranded while she tried to get the unit back online. By then the enemy hadn’t been neutralized entirely, but the operation succeeded in securing the weapon this particular band of terrorists had acquired. The mission was over, they were grossly outnumbered. Any attempts to rescue Tracer were almost bound to end in numerous fatalities. Besides, if she got the unit working before she was found, a feat she insisted over the com she was capable of, she would have been able to escape. Blinking out of tight spots was her specialty, after all.

But no, Jack felt the need to play the hero, and ordered five men in after her. Five members of Blackwatch, no less. Gabriel’s men.

“What?” Reyes had growled over the com upon hearing the order. He was too far removed from Tracer’s position to be involved. He was clearing a path for their retreat with the weapon. One of the terrorists leapt down from a balcony, aiming the butt of his gun at the Reyes. The agent smoothly stepped aside, aimed his gun, and blew the attackers head clean off at point blank range, showering himself in a red rain of gore. He wiped his mouth off with his sleeve, scanning for more attackers before he spoke again. “That’s suicide.”

“Yeah! I got this! Ah-!” Tracer’s peppy voice chimed in, before it was cut off with gunfire.

“I said move out! We got your backs.” Morrison barked over the com.

“...Sir?” The tentative voice of one of Reyes unlucky soldiers came in through the com. It wasn’t their backs they, or Reyes, were worried about.

He ground his teeth. There was no choice. “You heard him.”

Luck. Dumb luck and the enemy's stupid mistake saved them in the end. The exact incident was recorded on someone’s headset, and the idiots in the bar had played it about a hundred times already, cheering and toasting with every replay. But every replay just served to make Reyes angrier, and angrier.

A grenade flew through the air at his men, just as another terrorist flew through the air, hurled by Reinhardt’s freakish ability to bodily launch people. The grenade bounced off the terrorist’s unfortunate companion, and clattered back into their midst before going off. Reyes’ men were then able to clean up the stragglers and extract Tracer.

Impressive? Perhaps. But dumb luck. A bad call. One that could have easily ended in six dead operatives instead of possibly one.

“Here, Love, why don’t I buy you a drink?” Lena said, slipping the drink menu out from under Reyes’ fingers as he continued to stare blankly through it.

He looked her over with a faint frown. “Are you even old enough to drink?”

“Oh, so I’m old enough to charge into battle to protect the planet,” she held up finger guns, making the appropriate firing motion at Reyes with a wink, “but not to imbibe intoxicating liquors?”

He frowned, well, she had him there.

She planted her palms on the bar, lifting her feet off the ground to get as far over the bar as possible. “Hey bartender! Get us a couple Tracer Specials, would’ja?”

A faint grimace seemed to cross the bartender’s features. “Okay…”

Reyes had already been sucked into joining a round of tequila shots… And a round of Kamikazes… what was with this group and shots? At least he dodged the round of some horrifying fluorescent green concoction. But, whatever strange mixed drink Lena was getting him could be a nice change of pace. Until the bartender slid a couple of shots at them. Again.

Lena laughed at the look on Reyes’ face as he picked up the shot. She clinked her glass against his with a wink. Reyes rolled his eyes and the two threw their drinks back.

A full body shudder of revulsion gripped Reyes as the unquestionably toxic concoction poured down his throat. He slammed the shot glass back down on the bar, clamping his free hand over his mouth, trying to suppress a gag as he shuddered again. He slammed his fist into the bar, his eyes watering, while Lena laughed, patting him on the back.

“Great, isn’t it? I’m thinkin’ of calling it the ‘Time Skip’.”

“Great is not a word that comes to mind.” Gabriel rubbed his face with both hands as several people looked to see what the fuss is about. “Fuck, what was that? Wood alcohol and paint thinner?” He reached half blindly across the bar for something to chase it with. He heard a muffled protest as he grabbed someone’s drink to wash it down. The fruity liquid did the trick, removing the vile burn from his tongue. He finally glanced up at who he’d stolen the bright pink concoction from, and was startled to see McCree scowling back at him.

Reyes looked to the fruity drink, then back to McCree. The cowboy glared, snatching the glass back. “I’m takin’ it to someone.” He grumbled defensively as Reyes released the drink with a twisted smirk.

“If you say so.”

“See? There’s a smile! All it took was knowing McCree has the same taste in drinks as my gran’.” Lena said gleefully, patting Reyes on the shoulder as the soldier’s smirk grew to a grin.

“I said it ain’t mine!” McCree barked from across the room, drawing laughter from Lena and Gabriel, and some angry swearing from the cowboy.

“C’mon, Love, let’s join the party.” Lena chimed, hooking her elbow in Reyes’, escorting him to the table.

The two made their way back to a cluster of tables the unruly group had pushed together in an attempt to have everyone seated together. Its surface was littered with pitchers, both empty and not, glasses, dozens of booze soaked napkins attempting to wipe up dozens of spills...and plenty of untouched spills, once they’d given up on trying to contain their mess. The staff would probably be quite angry about the mess they were making, if it weren’t for the fact they’d likely already made damn near a month’s salary in tips. Overewatch’s penchant for trashing bars was going to get them in trouble someday...But probably not today.

Gabriel found himself seated between Reinhardt and Lena. A large part of him wanted to just disappear, slip away to his room, and call it a night. He was in no mood for celebrating this particular victory, if it could even be called that. But his men were enjoying themselves. And he hadn’t seen some present members of Overwatch in a while. He should at least try… Even though gunshots still rang in his head, and he wasn’t sure he had been completely successful cleaning someone else’s blood from his ear (how had that even happened?) Though any more, it seemed, gunshots were always ringing through his head.

Sometime later, cheers went up from around the table. Reyes looked up from his drink, unsure how long he’d been staring at it. Replaying snippets from the battle through his head. Jack had walked into the room, his arm in a sling; He’d managed to sustain one of the few injuries during the operation when a stray bullet tore through his arm. He smiled and waved at the table with his good hand. Lena blinked out of her seat, appearing at Jack’s side, throwing her arms around him.

“Take my seat! I’ll grab you a drink!” Lena chimed, disappearing, and reappearing at the bar before Morrison had a chance to respond. He laughed.

“I’ll pass on the drink! Angela has me on some pretty solid painkillers. Think I’m woozy enough without causing liver damage.” He called back to Lena, though he took her up on the offer for her seat, settling in next to Reyes. He knuckled his friend in the shoulder, still smiling widely. “Hey, why so grim? I thought this was a party.”

A thousand responses flickered through Reyes’ head, but before he could respond Tracer re-appeared, plunking a soda down in front of Jack before skipping away, pulling another chair up to a different section of table, joining seamlessly into their distant conversation.

“You know damn well why,” Reyes growled, as Reinhardt accidentally jostled him, gesturing a little too widely while telling some story.

Jack gave him a thin smile. “We’ll talk about it later, right? Just...try to enjoy yourself? I’ve missed having you around since the split.” He kicked Reyes gently under the table. “Like old times, right?”

As mad as he was, it was nice to have Jack next to him at the table. For some reason his presence put his mind at ease. A particular shape that belonged by his side. It was familiar, as he said, like old times. They were borderline inseparable for years. They worked well together. A perfect and deadly team. They knew each other so well they barely had to speak when they were on a mission. Each knew what the other was going to do practically before the other had thought to do it. They had been close, perhaps too close. Their companions used to joke that they bickered like an old married couple. They were probably right. 

Morrison picked up his soda and clinked the rim against Reyes’ half forgotten beer. “To old times?”

Clever, toast to something he knows Reyes won’t protest to. Not the mission. He picked up his glass, about to return the toast, when Reinhardt’s story become a little too enthusiastic. The lumbering oaf flailed, drink in hand, and dumped the entire amber pint down Reyes’s front. 

Gabriel sprang to his feet, swearing, as Reinhardt roared apologies, picking up a pile of half soaked napkins to try and dab some of the beer off of Reyes’s shirt. He batted the enormous man away, while the table erupted in a mix of horrified gasps and raucous laughter. Jack, for his part, was doubled over the table laughing. 

“I AM SO SORRY.” Reinhardt bellowed, emptying the napkin holder of its entire load, rubbing the flimsy brown napkins down Reyes’ front.

“Stop- stop! I’m fine! I’m just...I’ll just go shower. It’s getting late anyway.” Reyes grumbled, finally fending the giant off. The room spun a little more than Gabriel anticipated when he stood so suddenly. He felt Jack’s hand grab his bicep to steady him, between laughs. It must have been that damn ‘Tracer Special’. He hadn’t had that much to drink. But god only knew what was in that abomination…

He cut a somewhat wavering path to the door, but successfully made his way up to his room. Fortunately it wasn’t a hard journey. They’d used this shitty hotel before. The owner was amenable to letting Overwatch take over the whole place, and keeping quiet about it. 

He staggered into the dingy room, peeling off his beer soaked clothes and leaving a trail of garments on his way to the equally dingy bathroom. At least the shower was new. Pristine white and freshly tiled, in stark contrast to the rest of the bathroom. It raised some serious concerns about what exactly happened to the previous shower.

The water was bitter cold at first, but warmed quickly. He could have waited before getting in, but he wasn’t thinking clearly at the moment. His head was spinning, and it wasn’t just the alcohol. The operation, seeing Jack again, the bullets that still rattled around in his mind. He leaned his head against the shower wall, squeezing his eyes shut. No, no, it was just the booze. He just needed to sleep this off. 

He ran his fingers through his wavy, wet hair. It was getting too long again. His gaze trailed down the blank white wall to the drain, where he was alarmed to see red swirling down as it had earlier, when he washed after the mission. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. How? He’d been caked in blood, but he’d been plenty thorough. He wasn’t hurt either, it wasn’t his…

He opened his eyes again and the red was gone. Just clear water. He slammed the water off, shaking his head. The beer was gone, he was clean enough. He staggered out of the shower and grabbed a towel, drying himself. As he scrubbed the water out of his hair, the door to his room opened. He’d left the bathroom door open, and apparently forgot to lock his room, leaving him standing stark naked in clear view of the intruder.

Jack took a quick step into the room and quickly shut the door behind himself. “Sorry!” He coughed. Reyes eyed him with a scowl, before continuing to dry his hair. 

“You know, usually when you walk in on someone you’re supposed to leave before you shut the door…” He grumbled.

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t seen it before.” Morrison said with a smirk. Gabriel scowled at him, even if it was true. They’d been in enough communal showers, bunks, and other close quarters situations together. He’d seen Jack’s ass more times than he cared to count. Not that he was looking. Though sometimes his back would catch Gabriel’s attention, perfectly sculpted, broad shoulders, the rippling muscles and smooth skin marred by battle damage-

He really did try not to take note. But mistakes happened.

Jack started gathering up Gabriel’s discarded, beer soaked garments while his friend finished toweling off. He piled them somewhat neatly on the bathroom counter. Reyes tossed his towel to the floor, which Jack also picked up, and rummaged through his bag for a pair of clean sweatpants, which he promptly pulled on. 

“Are you okay?” Jack asked, leaning on the door frame of the bathroom, his good hand planted firmly on his hip, watching Gabriel.

“I’m fine.” Reyes muttered, sitting on the bed. He rubbed his face, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Just a bit drunk.”

“No...no, you’re not fine.” Jack said, stepping forward, leaning over his friend. “I’ve seen you drunk. You’re not usually like this.” 

“Then no, I’m not fine. I’m angry. With you.” Reyes hissed, his gaze snapping back up. He stood abruptly, forcing Jack to stagger out of his way. 

“Look, I know you didn’t think it was the right call. But we couldn’t leave one of our own behind-” 

“What are you talking about?! We have to leave agents behind all the time!” Reyes snapped, striding a few paces away, running his hands through his hair. There weren’t many places to escape to in this cramped room. 

“You didn’t leave me behind…” Morrison murmured. Reyes clenched his fists, he should have seen that coming. For a moment he could almost feel the weight of Morrison’s half unconscious, limp body over his shoulders as he carried the man to safety under heavy fire. Against his own best judgement. 

“That was different.” He growled back. It was a stupid. A decision driven by sentiment instead of strategy. A senseless risk, a sign that they didn’t belong in combat together any more. 

“How so?”

“It was only me!” Reyes snapped, spinning back around, surprised at how close Jack had gotten. Or maybe he was there the whole time. “I risked myself going after you. No one else. And it was a mistake.”

“So. Saving me was a mistake?” 

Reyes glared, clenching his hands into fists. He was too drunk for this, he couldn’t think straight, and Jack knew it. The slimy bastard knew this was an argument Gabriel couldn’t win, not right now, with his brain pickled in one too many shots. That’s why he kept pushing. Staring at him with those vibrant blue eyes, standing just a little too close. 

Finally he managed to put a sentence together. “You compromised the mission. You risked five men’s lives- my men...for one agent. An agent who likely could have escaped on her own.” 

“Is that what this is about, because they were ‘your’ men? They were the best position to strike. You know me better than that, I would have sent my own-” He paused mid thought as Reyes abruptly walked to his pack, beginning to rummage through it again. 

“I’m done discussing this.” Reyes grumbled. He was done with the conversation, he was done with being awake. Exhaustion was starting to weigh on him, his head was spinning, and Jack was being a manipulative ass, as usual. Finally he found the item he was looking for. A small pill bottle.

“Hey now, what are those- hey-” Morrison appeared behind him, reaching for the bottle. Reyes pulled back, fighting the soldier for it.

“They’re prescribed, I need them to sleep. I’m going to bed.” He spat as Jack continued to try to pry the bottle from his grip.

“I don’t give a shit if they’re prescribed, you’re drunk as hell. You can’t mix sleeping pills with that!”

The two grappled over the bottle, Reyes staggering to his feet, fending off his handicapped opponent with ease, despite his intoxication. Until Jack grabbed his wrist and twisted, a basic self defense move. One meant to disarm an opponent. And it worked, pain shooting through Reyes’ hand as he was forced to drop the bottle. But the pain seemed to flip a switch in his mind. The pill bottle was forgotten before it even hit the floor. Suddenly he was just fighting someone who’d managed to disarm him. 

The violent response caught Jack off guard, and before he was even aware what was happening Reyes had him slammed against the wall, tightly pinning his good hand to the wall, the fingers of Reyes’s other hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing, holding him in place.

“Gabe-!” Jack choked out, his eyes wide with alarm. The startled exclamation snapped Reyes back to reality, or some semblance of it. He was almost startled to find himself pinning Morrison. He immediately loosened the pressure on Jack’s throat, though didn’t remove his hand entirely as he tried to parse together what just happened. He stared at the other man, confused.

He took a moment to try and orient himself. They were standing close, very close, against the wall in his hotel room. He could smell Jack’s breath, and the unique scent of that ridiculous shampoo the other man insisted on using. The idiot even carted it along to missions. The other man was warm, breathing hard, scared- no, startled. And concerned. His eyes scanning Reyes’ face desperately trying to figure out what was going on in his head. 

The wall was rough against the knuckles of Reyes’ left hand, where he had Jack’s right pinned. A shitty textured paint job for a shitty hotel. But strangest by far was the sensations coming from his right hand, gripped around the other man’s neck. So strong, yet at the same time so fragile. It didn’t seem like the throat of some super soldier, it was just like any other man. The skin was smooth, except for the rough layer of stubble. Something about the texture was endearing. He slowly slid his thumb across the man’s neck, feeling the thunder of his pulse, the protrusion of his adam's apple…

Jack’s eyes fluttered closed momentarily at the touch. He twisted his hand in Reyes’ grip, lacing their fingers together. It took Reyes’ mind a few moments to register the change, and then the thumb gently caressing his fingers. Reyes continued his exploration of Morrison’s neck with his own hand, entranced, drawing his thumb along the other man’s jaw line, edging closer.

“Gabriel,” Jack breathed, practically in his ear. The name sent shivers down his spine. Jack never called him Gabriel...And something about hearing his name, in that voice...

Years of smothered longing came trickling back into Reyes’ mind. First as a quiet stream, then as a flood, crashing around him, drowning him. And here they were, so close. Reyes was drunk, Morrison delirious off pain killers, slowly, gently leaning into Reyes’ hand as the soldier ran his fingers along his jaw, his eyes drifting closed. There they were. Alone. And so close.

It was only natural when their lips met. There was none of the awkwardness of Reyes’ previous first kisses. It was almost familiar. Warm, inviting. Gabriel trailed his hand up Jack’s face, burying his fingers in the man’s fine, blonde hair. He finally let his grip on Jack’s right hand slacken, and the soldier responded by immediately snaking his arm around Gabriel’s waist, pulling them closer together. 

Eventually Jack pushed himself off the wall, forcing Gabriel back, the pair shuffling until they hit the bed, falling onto it. Jack’s hand eagerly roamed Gabriel’s exposed flesh, while Gabriel’s mouth traced down the other man’s jaw, to his neck. He trailed his tongue along the man’s stubble, until he reached the crook of Jack’s strong neck, where he bit down, hard. Jack went temporarily rigid, muttering a stifled expletive before melting back into Gabriel’s embrace, his fingers digging into Gabriel's chest. He leaned in and reciprocated, biting Gabriel’s shoulder, though without quite as much force.

Gabriel snaked his hands under Jack’s shirt, searching, exploring, but as he worked the garment up, a less pleasurable stifled gasp escaped the soldier, as the material twisted against his injured arm. 

“Careful, ah- I’m not supposed to move it yet.” he whispered, leaning his head into the mattress as Gabriel muttered a quiet apology. 

With that sudden jolt, the strange spell the two seemed to have been under slowly began to dissolve. Jack lay on top of Gabriel still, allowing his weight to sink against the other man, his hand on his chest, while Gabriel’s hands were still under Jack's shirt, idly caressing his back.

“What are we doing?” Reyes finally managed the quiet question after what felt like an eternity. Jack removed his face from the crook of Gabriel’s neck and planted another slow, long kiss on his lips, as if to silence the man. But after a lingering moment he pulled away, shaking his head.

“You should sleep- we should sleep…” Jack finally managed with a sigh.

Reyes nodded suddenly remembering. Sleeping pills. That’s how this all got started.

Jack was right. He shouldn’t be mixing those with alcohol. 

The two dragged themselves onto the bed, Jack kicking off his shoes before they somehow found their way under the blankets, entwined in each others arms. 

Gabriel leaned his head against Jack's shoulder, enjoying letting the musky scent of his companion wash over him. Part of his mind spun, wanting to figure out what just happened, needing to, but the rest of him silenced it, enjoying the moment, enjoying the peace as he drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

_Once is a mistake, twice is a pattern..._

Reyes woke to the quiet rumble of Morrison sleeping beside him, nestled into the crook of his arm, half snoring. Outside, the predawn light was turning the sky a faint blue gray. His eyes fluttered to the clock, 4:30 AM. The soldier sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand. It was probably just past midnight when he staggered to his room. He hadn’t slept this long without chemical aid in months.

Part of him wanted to stay in bed. He was warm, comfortable, with Jack curled up beside him. But the spinning questions in his mind were no longer being quashed by alcohol. This was… It had to have been a mistake, they weren’t in their right minds, shit happens. Or was it? Part of him had wanted this for so long. To cradle Jack in his arms, to taste his lips...

He slowly slid out of the bed, carefully removing his arm from under Jack, trying not to wake the man. Though, from past experience, the way Morrison slept, it would probably take a bucket of water to the face to rouse him. Which Reyes had done. A few times. He smirked faintly at the memory. Though the man did surprise him sometimes. Whenever they needed to get up in the middle of the night because of a threat, Jack beat everyone to their feet. It’s like he had a threat detection radar in his head, even while he slept. Hopefully his companion getting out of bed wouldn’t set it off…

A jog. He’ll go for a jog, clear his head, and then come back and deal with...whatever this was. Let Jack sleep a while longer, get some fresh air. Exercise always helped him put his thoughts in order, it was meditative, in a sense. The room was musty, he couldn’t think in such a confined space, especially not with Jack tucked away half naked in his bed.

He quickly pulled on his running clothes, grabbed his phone and earbuds, chugged about five glasses of water, and quietly slipped from the room. As he made his way downstairs, towards the exit. As he walked passed the entrance to the lounge, he was surprised to hear voices. Familiar voices. He paused, and backed up a few paces, peering inside.

Lena, McCree, and Reinhardt still sat around the table. Or more accurately, the first two sat, while Reinhardt was slumped over it.

“Howdy,” McCree drawled as Reyes blinked at the group from the doorway. Lena flashed a wide smile.

“What are you doin’ up so early!” Lena chimed.

“Going for a run- You... haven’t slept yet.” He grumbled back, more than a fair amount of disapproval seeping into his voice.

McCree shrank a little under the tone, but Lena grinned, impervious to his reproach. Or oblivious. “Yeah! We couldn’t just leave Reinhardt here, and...the guy’s huge! Didn’t think we could carry him.”

“We switched to water an hour ago. Ish.” McCree offered.

Reyes shook his head and stuck his headphones back in his ears. “Idiots…” He muttered. Right. Going for a jog…

***

Lena giggled as Reyes departed. “Wow, guess he wasn’t as drunk as I thought. I figured he’d be nursing a hangover ‘till noon.”

“Naw,” McCree said, lowering his voice, like Reyes might hear him, even as they heard the front door jingle shut. “Guy’s some sort of freak. His metabolism’s all jacked up. Probably some of that weird experimental shit he was in on.” He paused mid thought, staring at Tracer for a long moment. “Hold on now. Speakin’ of. I’ve been watchin’ you put ‘em back all night. Why the hell ain’t YOU the one passed out under the table? Yer tiny.”

Lena laughed, clapping her hands with delight. “I cheat.”

“Waddaya mean you _cheat-_ ”

Lena just grinned back, before she noticed another figure pass by the doorway, then reappear moments later, the same way Reyes had. Only this time it was Morrison.

“You’re still up…” He said, staring groggily into the room.

“Yup.” McCree responded simply. Jack looked as if he was going to ask a follow up question, then shook his head, thinking better of it.

The soldier peered around the lounge, then looked up and down the hall. “I don’t suppose you saw Reyes pass through here?” he asked after a long pause.

“Yeah, just missed him, going for a run.” Lena offered. A faint look of sadness flicked across Jack’s features, followed by a grimace. He massaged his injured arm gently, nodding.

“Mm, figures. Thanks. And you three-” He eyed Reinhardt for a moment. “Two, should really get some rest. I know the mission’s over, but you never know when we’ll need to spring to action.”

“You got it, boss!” Lena replied brightly, giving a half salute while Morrison disappeared from the doorway.

This time it was Lena’s turn to lower her voice, conspiratorially. “Weird he’d show up right after Reyes?”

“Mmhmm…” McCree grumbled.

“And looking for him?”

“Mhm…”

“And wearing the same clothes from last night-”

“Now girl, I’m havin’ no part of such speculation. I’m not on Reyes’ shit list yet, and I reckon I’d like it to stay that way as long as possible.” McCree scolded, while Lena’s grin grew wider, clearly doing all the speculating the cowboy refused to do. “Wipe that grin off yer face. ‘Sides. Did that look like a grinnin’ matter to you?” He said, gesturing in the direction Morrison had left.

The smile on Lena’s face slowly melted as she reflected on the demeanor of the two men. No...probably not a grinnin’ matter…

The two quickly changed the subject back to the Reinhardt Problem. Though before they came to a conclusion on how to deal with the tremendous man, their phones began to buzz. Another emergency.

“Aw hell…” McCree muttered. “Guess we better tell the staff to start makin’ coffee…”

***

“So, let me make sure we’re all crystal clear…” Reyes said, leaning over the conference table, pressing his palms to its, cold, shining surface. He eyed the UN liaison through the man’s translucent laptop screen, as the little worm kept typing away. The liaison nodded regardless.

“Yes?”

“So what we’re saying is, this mission will be predominantly Blackwatch agents. Using Blackwatch techniques, equipment, and expertise. I have enough agents trained in some of these maneuvers, while Overwatch does not…” Reyes said slowly, still studying the man. He felt Jack shift in the seat beside him, the soldier rubbed his forehead, he looked like he had a headache coming on. Or more accurately, Reyes was causing a headache.

It had been a few weeks since Reyes had reason to be back at the Overwatch headquarters, and he was already reminded why being the head of Blackwatch didn’t bother him so much. He had to spend a whole lot less time dealing with bureaucratic weasels like the one sitting across the table from him than Jack did. 

“But there are a few Overwatch members coming along as well. Including Jack. For their ‘special skills.’” Reyes clarified. The liaison nodded. “But this is an ‘Overwatch operation’, because it’s patently heroic, and you’re keeping it an ‘Overwatch operation’ for branding reasons…”

“Gabe…” Jack said, a hint of pleading in his voice. This meeting had already gone on long enough.

The liaison glared, pressing a button on his laptop, causing the screen to flicker out of view. “Fine! Fine, if you must be stubborn about it, yes. This is a high profile situation, and I’m sure we all don’t want to stick Blackwatch public view!”

Reyes leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile creeping onto his lips. “Alright, as long as we’re clear…”

“And we still fully expect you to do your jobs- there are some _very_ important people stranded in that building-“

“Don’t be insulting, of course we’ll do our jobs. I just wanted to be sure we were all on the same page.”

“Reyes! That’s enough!” Morrison finally snapped, kicking Gabriel under the table. Reyes carefully held back his smirk as the liaison huffed and got to his feet. Sometimes it was the small victories…

“Well, if that is all…”

“Yeah, I think Blackwatch’s got this operation pretty well covered, don’t you think, Morrison?”

Jack put on his best diplomatic smile for the UN liaison, while still somehow managing to glare daggers at Reyes. “Yes, I’m sure _we_ should be able to settle the matter. Mr. Warren, would you like me to show you to the exit?”

“No, no, I know my way. Besides, I have a few other people I wish to speak with. Good day.”

Reyes smirked, rolled back in his chair, and thumped his heels up onto the conference table. The second the door clicked closed behind the liaison, Jack turned to him, glaring.

“This shit is the exact reason you didn’t get the promotion, you know that, right?” The comment was obviously meant to sting, but Gabe just grinned back at him. 

“Yeah, I never was good at playing their games. But you heard him, right? It wasn’t just me? He was trying to make it sound like it was a goddamn _favor_ that he was letting us Blackwatch lowlifes ride along for an Overwatch rescue mission. There’s not a chance in hell I was letting that stand.” He pointed an accusatory finger in Jack’s face, intentionally getting it annoyingly close to the soldier's nose. “And if our roles were reversed, I still wouldn’t have let it stand.”

“Like I said.” Morrison grumbled as he stood, dodging the finger. He leaned over Reyes who craned his neck backwards to peer up at the man. “The reason you didn’t get promoted.” He reached down, grabbed Reyes’ cap, and pulled it over the man’s face. Gabriel laughed, flailed, and nearly tipped over backwards in his chair. “That and your dumb goddamn beanie.”

Reyes pushed the knit cap back over his eyes and hopped out of his chair to follow Morrison as the soldier made his way to the exit.

“The way I see it is there’s a mission to be done and lives to be saved, it doesn’t matter who gets the glory.” Morrison muttered, glancing over his shoulder when he noticed Reyes following him.

“C’mon Jack, you know me better than that. Jack…” Reyes called, catching up with Morrison as he reached the elevator. “What’s with you? I thought I was supposed to be the moody one.”

Jack tapped the up button more aggressively and a few more times than was necessary, not bothering to look at Reyes. “It’s an extremely urgent mission. I didn’t care to sit there wasting time while you stroked your ego provoking Mr. Warren.”

“Oh come on that was five minutes-” Morrison finally gave Reyes a narrow glare. “Okay TEN minutes at best. We still have agents to recall which is going to take at least forty-five minutes, and then we have a seven hour flight on top of it. Ten minutes is not going to change anything.”

The elevator chimed quietly, the shiny steel doors sliding open. Jack stepped inside, silently, and punched the button for the fourth floor: command level. Reyes stepped in after him, folding his arms, watching the blond man with a faint frown. Morrison stood, staring straight ahead as the steel doors slid shut again, and the elevator began to whir upwards.

“So, what is this? The silent treatment?”

“Are we ever going to talk?” Jack finally snapped.

“We’re talking now?”

“You know what I mean.”

Reyes leaned against the wall of the elevator with a heavy sigh. He pinched his eyes shut for a moment. It had happened again. He felt guilty the first time, leaving that morning for his run, just to have the both of them called away before they could discuss what happened. Though truthfully a small part of him was relieved. Weeks passed before the men met in person again. Another celebration. More drinks…

The second time they were interrupted before things got too involved by an exceptionally loud fight in the hallway. Fortunately the combatants were too caught up in their own strife to question why their commanders had emerged from the same room, or why Reyes’ shirt was suddenly on inside out. Dealing with disciplining the idiots and deciding what to do about the shocking amount of property damage took most of the night. It was one of the unfortunate risks when recruiting misfits and criminals.

“We’ve been busy- Soon. I promise?” Reyes offered weakly. Jack had tried to talk to him several times, but Gabriel had been all over the world lately. And he didn’t care to discuss it over their coms, or phones...He really felt it was a more of an in person topic. Not to mention low level concerns about their transmissions being intercepted.The press were already crawling up Overwatch’s ass, scrutinizing everything they did. All they needed was a torrid affair to stoke the fires of public interest.

“You know, once is a mistake, twice is a pattern.” Jack muttered, staring stubbornly at the elevator doors. He finally broke his gaze from the door, leveling his piercing look at Reyes, scrutinizing him. It gave him chills. “This is all just a game to you, isn’t it?” He demanded, as the elevator chimed and the doors slid open.

“What? Of course it’s not a game-”

“Everything’s a game with you.” Jack snapped, striding out of the elevator. “That’s why you wouldn’t let the stupid ‘credit’ issue drop. It’s how you’ve always been. Every mission is just some high stakes chess match to you.”

Reyes clenched his fists, tamping down the urge to just smack the man in the back of the head. “No, you know what? You’re right. It is all a game. A carefully calculated, strategic game. A game with winners, losers, a lot of collateral damage, and people who don’t want to play. But it’s a game I’m damn good at winning, so if you want to keep running your mouth-”

“How can you talk like that! We save lives-”

“It’s always about the heroics to you! Guess what? We’re not heroes. We’re half a step above being the people we kill at best.”

“The UN sanctions our-”

“Don’t pretend their blessing changes what we do. You heard him, we have high priority targets to rescue. Do you think _real_ heroes really value one life over another like that? The ambassador getting priority treatment over the maid?”

“They’re highly influential political figures, it will cause many more problems if they die...”

“Yeah, explain that to the maid’s family.”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen! Do I need to call in the marriage counselor?” Winston interjected from across the room. At least Reyes and Morrison had managed to keep their voices low enough, the enormous ape probably hadn’t heard the full contents of their disagreement.

Jack stared at Reyes for a long moment, a bit of the anger fading from his eyes, as a frown flicked onto his lips, apparently considering his friend’s words. But in lieu of a response he spun on his heel and marched off to a control panel.

Reyes shook his head and made his way to his own panel. He entered his access code and sent out encrypted messages to his nearby agents. They were to convene at Overwatch headquarters within the hour. He frowned down at the glowing screen as the confirmations popped up one after the other. The satisfaction he’d felt at tormenting the liaison replaced by a cold hollow in the pit of his stomach.

***

“As you all probably gathered by your accommodations, we will be parachuting into the target location. It will be just shy of three when we arrive, and pitch black. We will reconvene at our respective strike groups after we land, your group and your location is noted in your dossiers.

“This an extremely volatile hostage situation. The hotel staff, guests, and a number of political figures are being held in a remote mountain resort. You have a map of the terrain and the floor plan of the hotel. I expect you all to have them both memorized by the time we arrive in seven hours. Local forces have already tried to deal with the situation, and have failed. That’s where we come in.” Reyes barked over the roar of the engines.

His men were all trading their attention between him and their data tablets, scrolling through mission details and maps. Reyes continued barking his lecture, strolling up and down the ranks as they sat buckled into their uncomfortable seats lined up along the wall of the aircraft. He made sure to cover the key points of the operation in case any of the less studious readers missed something. Besides, some people simply did better hearing things than reading things.

As he strolled past McCree, he plucked a cigarette from the cowboy’s lips, tossed it on the floor, and casually stepped on it. “Any questions?” Reyes called, finally reaching the end of his briefing.

“Ya know, if you want me to shoot straight, I gotta have a smoke.” McCree grumbled.

“Right, of course.” Reyes said, rounding back to his seat, and rummaged through his bag. “I almost forgot your present.” Reyes grinned, tossing a small cardboard box into McCree’s lap. Cheery green text reading ‘Quit smoking today!’ was printed on its side. Jesse picked up the box with a deep scowl.

“The hell is this?”

“Nicotine gum. Should help you keep you steady. I can’t have you smoking in a plane or on a night stealth mission. And besides, you should quit. It’s terrible for your lung capacity.”

McCree stared at the gum like it had insulted his mother, he then turned his glare on his commander. “Terrible for my lung capacity, eh? Figured you’d just go for the ‘they’ll give you cancer’ line there.”

“You won’t live long enough to die of cancer if an enemy runs you down, yeah?”

Jesse grumbled something that was lost in the roar of the engines, finally tearing open the box and looking inside, as if he expected to find something truly disgusting within. Reyes leaned down, and gave McCree a soft pat on the cheek, while several of the nearby men laughed, before continuing on his way.

“Oh, and last bit of advice? Try to get some sleep before we arrive. It’s going to be a long night.”

With that Reyes returned to his seat in the center back of the plane, next to Morrison. The two’s seats were situated to give them a view of the rest of the men, while being far enough removed to give them some level of privacy in their conversation, if only thanks to the exceedingly loud roar of the plane.

“Speaking of sleep, how have you been sleeping lately?” Morrison asked with a look of concern. Reyes smile sheepishly and shrugged. Now was probably not the time to reveal he was running on about three hours of sleep out of the last forty eight…

“Oh, you know, sleeping when I can. Angela says she’s going to try something different when I get back. She’s pretty sure it has something to do with my ‘genetics’.”

Jack nodded with an understanding few people in the world could ever appreciate. The super soldier program had left the both of them with a number of surprise side effects no one would have predicted. Side effects that continued to surface one at a time as the years stretched on.

“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. I was unfair…” Jack started. 

“Don’t worry about it. I was out of line too.”

Morrison gave a sharp nod, like he’d just acknowledged an order. Neither were fond of apologies, giving or receiving. With that Jack held out his tablet, pointing at the map. “So I noticed, about the positioning of team C…”

The two talked strategy for half an hour before both were completely satisfied that the plan was sound. Eventually Jack sank down in his seat, stifling a yawn. Reyes watched him with a faint smile, hoping the admiration wasn’t too obvious on his face, though none of the men were paying attention to them. Jack’s shining blond hair looked perfectly tousled. Though Reyes knew from enough years of experience it had nothing to do with styling: Jack’s hair did as it pleased. Including occasionally giving Morrison the most impressive bedhead Reyes had ever witnessed.

“It’s kinda like old times, isn’t it?” Reyes said, giving Morrison a gentle nudge with his elbow. 

Jack slowly turned to him with a crooked smirk twisted across his lips. “Loud, uncomfortable plane rides. Jumping from an aircraft three miles up in the pitch black…”

“Going on a mission together. You know. We made a hell of a team…”

“Yeah. We did.” Morrison said with a heavy sigh, barely audible over the engine noise. Those glacial piercing eyes trailing down to the floor. Reyes silently reminded himself not to stare, or look too disappointed as Jack looked away. 

“I miss working with you. Going into battle...having each other’s backs…” Reyes muttered, his words nearly drowned out in the roar, but Jack heard him, a small, distant smile creeping onto his lips.

“Yeah. Me too.” He glanced back up at Reyes with a fond look that made the soldier's heart skip a beat. “But I’m going to take your advice and try to get some sleep. You should probably try too.”

Morrison settled into his seat, squirming in an attempt to get comfortable before closing his eyes. Reyes watched him for a few moments before doing the same. It was probably a lost cause, given his track record for sleeping lately, but worth a shot. On top of being comically loud, the seat was hard, the air cold, and they’d been hitting mild turbulence the whole time, leading to a bumpy, jittery ride. Despite all of that Reyes found himself strangely comfortable. It was all so familiar and comforting in its own strange way. 

Jack was warm against his arm. Gabriel had to resist the urge to just cuddle up against the other man. The tension slowly melted out of Reyes’ shoulders as he closed his eyes. Here he was, next to Morrison, on his way to a dangerous mission...all was right with the world.

***

Reyes woke to someone roughly knuckling him in the shoulder. He blinked, feeling a sharp kink in his neck. He’d fallen asleep, his head leaning on Morrison’s shoulder. Momentarily disoriented, Reyes abruptly sat up straight, forgetting where he was and why. He looked around, and noticed a faint wet mark on Morrison’s shoulder where he’d apparently drooled on the man. Reyes flushed with embarrassment, wiping the man’s shoulder, and his own chin, with a muttered apology. Jack lifted his head, blinking as he was jostled awake by the sudden stirring beside him.

McCree loomed over Reyes, his face smeared black with paint, and wearing a shit eating grin. “‘Mornin’ sunshine. You know, Sir, ‘s pretty fucked up if the belly of a loud fuckin’ transport plane’s the only place you can catch some Z’s. Probably a sign you’ve been in the military too long.” He chided, blowing a pathetic half bubble at Reyes with his nicotine gum. “And this stuff tastes like shit.”

Reyes glared at McCree. He was one of the few people who knew about Reyes’ insomnia problems. They’d encountered each other one too many times in the middle of the night for the issue to remain secret for long. Though McCree’s strange nocturnal habits seemed to have more to do with him being an irresponsible ass than any health concerns.

“Maybe we can get one of them noisemakers for yer bunk. Ya know, like white noise and nature sounds and shit? Only jet engines.” McCree continued as Reyes looked around, suddenly noticing all of the troops were on their feet and suited up. The engine noises were also substantially quieter. The pilot had engaged silent running mode.

“How far out are we?” Morrison asked, stifling a yawn.

“‘Bout fifteen minutes from the drop.” McCree drawled casually, causing both Reyes and Morrison to scrambled out of their seats, furiously yanking on their gear.

“Why didn’t someone wake me sooner! Where was the pilot’s announcement?” Reyes barked.

McCree stepped back, still grinning from ear to ear. “You slept through it. And you were so cute there droolin’ on Commander Morrison, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to wake ya.”

Gabriel muttered some unflattering remarks, pushing McCree away as he hurriedly strapped on his remaining equipment. He was suddenly grateful for the relatively dim lighting in the plane, considering how hot his cheeks were burning. Fantastic. Just...fantastic. 

“You’re all fucking fired for this I swear to god…” Reyes growled, finishing strapping in and commencing his safety check in record time.

“Well. This is gonna be one hell of a way to wake up at least.” Morrison said, smiling despite himself. “Honestly, Gabe, I always heard you ran Blackwatch a little loose, but this is ridiculous…”

“Sorry Commander! We wanted to wake you sooner but he wouldn’t let us-” one of the few Overwatch personnel called, which earned her a sharp punch in the shoulder.

Somehow, the two managed to gear up, and do all of their safety checks before the drop zone, even if they were both still hurriedly smearing on face paint while queuing up to jump.

“Right! Everyone. From here on out!” Reyes gave McCree a sharp glare. “Everything’s going by the book. No screwing around. No heroic bullshit. Stick to the plan. This is a tense situation, we’re coming in hard and getting out fast. Now let's move!”

***

“Position Alpha reporting. All set.” Reyes’ voice said over the com. “A hell of a way to start your day, McCree, I’m still going to kill when we’re done here.”

“Position Bravo good to go,” McCree’s distinct drawl oozed over the com, with a soft chuckle.

“Position Charlie? Report…” Reyes’ voice came over the com as Jack dropped the last few feet to the ground. He’d become tangled in a tree during his descent, and wound up stuck near the very top of some immense evergreen. He’d spent the last five minutes climbing his way down instead of making it to the meet up point. He brushed himself off, unharmed, aside from his ego…At least he’d landed nearly exactly on his position.

“Charlie reporting, we’re here except Morrison-”

“Morrison reporting. On my way. Had an encounter with a tree…” He flicked down the visor on his headset, the glowing outline of his teammates appearing through the gloom.

“Seriously, Morrison?” Reyes said, the edge of a laugh in his voice, before he muttered something quietly, but distinctly unflattering sounding, in Spanish.

“Ah, Commander Reyes? Yer com’s still open…” McCree’s voice came over the earpiece, through a barely stifled laugh.

“I know.”

“Hey! What? What did he say?” Jack snapped. Gabe’s response came over the com, once again in Spanish. The soldier glared at no one in particular as he made his way through the inky black forest. “I thought you said there would be no screwing around?” Morrison growled.

“Eh, I can make an exception for you…” Reyes purred into his ear. Morrison flushed bright red at the tone. _Everyone can hear you, you know._ He shook his head at the faint snickers coming over the com. Well. At least they found it amusing…

“Someone’s feisty today.” Morrison grumbled as he crested a small ridge in the forest, spotting his teammates in person this time. “Morrison in position. Seriously, though, what did you say?”

“Good, all points ready, silence radio chatter. That means you, Morrison.” Reyes’ voice ordered, suddenly down to business.

“You fucking started it!” Jack hissed, raising snickers from his teammates. He switched off his com, and pulled out his rifle, getting ready for the operation. “Do you know what he said?” His teammates shook their heads.

“Sorry Sir, don’t speak Spanish…”

Morrison and the two soldiers set up their silent watch. They could see the resort from their positions, or at least they could see its outline. It seemed the power had already been cut, and the trees successfully shaded out what little star light there was to navigate by. It was hard to spot even with the night vision their eye pieces provided. They were excellent conditions for stealth infiltration, terrible conditions for just about anything else. Jack was posted at the extraction point. The local forces had hidden a truck in the forest, one they would hopefully be using to evacuate the hostages. Now all he had to do was wait.

***

Reyes and his men slipped into the building, silent as mice, but he couldn’t help feel that they sounded like a herd of elephants compared to the quiet that greeted them inside. He’d been in hostage situations before. They were never this quiet. There was always whimpering, crying, panicked, strained breathing. But there was nothing.

They reached the door leading to the banquet hall where the hostages were supposedly being held. Reyes pressed a listening device to the door. Nothing. One of his men nudged him gently, pointing at the floor. A dark puddle seeped from under the door. They exchanged glances, before Gabriel silently twisted the knob and gently pushed the door open.

A few decorative candles still sputtered and burned on tables, pushed to the edges of the hall, casting horrifying scene before them in a gentle golden glow. Dozens of people were slumped in the center of the hall, hands bound behind their backs, each with a single bullet to the back of the head. They’d all been executed. Wait staff and guests alike.

Reyes crept forward silently, guns at the ready, scanning the shadows of the room. There wasn’t a living soul in sight. He pulled off his glove and knelt next to the nearest body. He touched the blood: it still retained some warmth. This was recent...very recent.

But how? Why? Had they somehow seen the drop? They’d tried to coordinate a landing zone that would be nearly impossible to spot from the resort. And if the terrorists had spotted them, where were they all now?

_Crack. Crack. Crack._

The sound of sniper fire echoed through the silent forest. Reyes and his men instinctively scattered from line of sight of the windows, but there was no shattering glass, no impacts. Then it came over the com.

“Position Charlie under fire! Jamison and Lin are down. I’m taking cover!” Morrison’s voice came in suddenly. Moments later the silence was again pierced, this time with the rapid clatter of machine guns.

“Bravo taking fire! It’s a trap!”

Reyes immediately started barking orders, splitting up his team to flank Bravo’s position and help them. He tried to ignore the knot in his gut as he flicked through the information on his visor. Both of Morrison’s teammates were down. He was alone, taking sniper fire. But his signal was still coming in strong, running through the forest with borderline unnatural speed. Someone was on his tail, he wouldn’t be running like that from a sniper…

After barking a few more orders, Reyes split from his team, heading after Morrison’s position. What kind of elaborate ambush was this, and why? If a sniper was able to tag most of the extraction team, they’d probably known about the hidden resources. That truck was their only reasonable way out of this forest, they needed to get it back. With Morrison safely inside.

Morrison’s outline suddenly stopped its frantic run on the screen, at the base of a short embankment. Reyes’ heart skipped a beat. The glowing image still showed vital readouts- he was just stopped, not dead.

Branches whipped across Reyes’ face as he continued his break neck pace through the dark, dense forest. Even with night vision, there were too many sticks to dodge. Morrison’s outline grew larger on his visor, and more distinct. He saw the man drop to his knees, hands in the air. Voices barked out orders in a language he couldn’t understand under the ledge ahead of him.

Reyes sprinted up the last few feet of bluff, hurling himself over the edge before the enemy soldiers had a chance to react. There were five of them, surrounding Morrison, guns drawn and aimed at him as he laced his fingers behind his head, his pulse rifle lying on the ground beside him. Two of the enemy combatants didn’t even have time to see Reyes as he aimed his shotguns, landing a blast to one man’s face and one in the other’s forehead before he even hit the ground. He landed with a roll, managing a blast to a third enemy’s chest before he even got off the ground, then another shot under the fourth soldier’s chin as he popped up to his feet. Morrison took advantage of the sudden diversion and grabbed his pulse rifle, shooting the remaining combatant in the chest, dropping him.

The two scrambled together, pressed back to back, spinning slowly, scanning their position for any more enemies, panting. Blood and bits of brain littered the forest floor, and speckled Reyes’ eyepiece. Three of the bodies were essentially headless after the close range assault. Reyes didn’t bother to wipe it off his visor, too busy checking their position.

“Heh, I thought you said no heroic bullshit,” Morrison finally managed after several long moments, finally lowering his rifle, satisfied the area was clear.

“I decided to make an exception.” Reyes panted, still recovering from his breakneck sprint through the woods.

“Nice shooting.”

“Thanks. You hurt?”

“No.”

The two finally stepped apart, lowering their weapons. Reyes looked over his friend quickly, desperately scanning for any injuries. Jack seemed more or less unscathed. In the faint glow of Jack’s visor Gabriel could see the man’s black painted face was splattered with dirt and blood. Rivulets of sweat dripped down his forehead, smearing the hastily applied paint. His mouth was open, still breathing hard. 

In that moment, Gabriel was sure he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

He dropped his shot guns, grabbed the front of Jack’s flack jacket, and dragged the other man close, crushing his lips into Morrison’s. Desperate, demanding, he bit down on Morrison’s lip, drawing a startled noise as the soldier scrambled at Reyes’ side with his free hand, the other holding his pulse rifle trapped between them. He returned the kiss with gusto, leaning in, lips parting, welcoming. Gabriel savored the taste, wanting to throw Jack down on the forest floor, right then and there, desire setting his body tingling all over. He eagerly pushed his tongue into Jack’s welcoming mouth, prodding, exploring, he wanted to feel every part of him, drown in the taste. But they still had a mission to finish.

When Gabriel pulled back, Jack looked startled, dizzy, while Gabriel still held him. Jack stared at Gabriel, eyes half lidded, lips still parted, dumbfounded.

A wide smile crept across Reyes’ face as he tapped his com, activating it again.

“Clearing point Charlie. Begin withdrawal to extraction point.” Reyes said into the com, scooping up his guns off the ground. He leaned forward, murmuring into Jack’s ear as the man stood, still frozen. “Three’s a habit.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter 2! Thank you to everyone who read chapter 1! I have a lot more planned, and another few chapters already completed, so I won't be escaping this hell for a while yet. I'm aiming to post one about once a week. I hope you enjoy!


	3. Chapter 3

Reyes sat silently in his private quarters, watching the crying face of a young Chinese woman on his computer screen. He hated this part. Losing agents was bad enough, but having to tell their families? It just opened the wound right back up, watching a fresh new hurt unfold before him, again and again. One of the men he’d lost, Lin, only had his sister left in the world. The two adored each other. Lin used to constantly brag how talented an artist she was, he even had one of her paintings hanging in his bunk. Gabriel was almost surprised to find out the woman worked at an airport concession stand, the way her brother spoke of her talent, Reyes assumed she was a famous artist. And now she was alone. 

Lin had taught Reyes some basic Chinese during their time together. And before this call Gabriel had someone work out a translation he could read, so he could tell the young woman the tragic news personally, instead of filtering it through the emotionless auto translator. Even if his pronunciation was terrible, it seemed like the least he could do. Though he doubted she heard a word of it. Her eyes filled with tears the second she saw his face on the screen. She knew what he was going to say.

Part of him wondered if the commanders of the terrorists he’d killed that night were going through the same ritual. Surely they had to be, to extend at least this simple courtesy to the families, to maintain loyalty. Hopefully no one wished to view the corpses Gabriel dispatched...His shotguns were deadly and effective, but they left one hell of a mess behind.

The young woman finally spoke through the sobs, the cold, emotionless voice of the auto translator reading her words out for Reyes in English.

_“Did he die a hero?”_

Reyes nodded, _he died standing guard, out of combat, shot through the head by some sniper, while his team tried to rescue hostages that were already dead._ “Yes. He did.”

The young woman sucked in a shuddering breath, dabbing away her tears. “ _I’m glad. He admired you all so much. His dream was to join Overwatch. Be a hero, like you. At least he..._ ” she trailed off, unable to continue. “ _I should go._ ” she finally choked, abruptly ending the transmission. 

Reyes rolled back in his chair and lowered his face to his hands. It was his third call of the night, and thankfully his last. Those three echoing retorts haunted him. He hated the sound of sniper fire. Almost certain death raining down from an unknown location. Hard to shoot back. Hard to know where to hide. The first two shots killed his men, the third narrowly missed Morrison. 

He passed his sniper training with flying colors, and could take the roll when needed, but he never liked to. He preferred to be up close, personal, even if it meant leaving the battlefield looking like he’d been through some sort of meat grinder. It was a reminder of what they were really doing. Killing people. They picked a side, and hoped it was the right side, and fought for it. Even during the Omnic crisis, a little spark wondered in the back of his mind if it wasn’t the humans who were truly the genocidal parties in that conflict, and the robots were just fighting back. But he picked his side, and helped make sure it was the winning side of history.

He felt a pair of hands come to rest on his shoulders, before they slid down, wrapping across his chest, their owner leaning down, enveloping the him in a hug. Reyes leaned back into his chest, recognizing the touch immediately. Jack. He hadn’t heard the man enter. He gladly sank into the warm embrace, grabbing Jack’s hands gently, squeezing, closing his eyes. 

“How long have you been here?” Gabriel finally asked after several long moments of silence. 

“Came in not long after you dialed.” He felt Jack nuzzle his face down into his hair, sighing. “I never appreciated how awful that part was until I had to do it myself. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Reyes said, patting Jack’s arm. The sad part was, he was fine. Just tired…He’d performed this bleak ritual more times than he could remember. It was practically routine now. He’d seen all the reactions, from the quiet, stoic thanks at delivering the news, to the screaming accusations that he killed their loved ones. Nothing surprised him anymore. Just a familiar haze of grief, and the the all too keen reminder that yet another voice had been silenced forever.

“Well, I came to give you some good news.” Jack continued, his voice muffled, still speaking into Reyes’ hair. “Angela downgraded Johansen’s condition to stable. And it looks like the other three should be fine. McCree already tried to sneak a cigarette. I’m pretty sure I overheard Angela threatening him if he tried again. She can be a unique kind of scary sometimes...”

Reyes breathed a faint sigh of relief, a smirk twisting his lips at the antics of his idiot protege. That was good, at least. Three dead, four wounded, out of twelve men. He’d taken part in worse missions. Most of the time, however, it felt they at least accomplished something. Had information, or product to show for all of the misery. But not this time. It left everyone feeling hollow and angry. They failed. They failed entirely. And lost three good agents doing it.

The strangest part was the perpetrators of this disaster. The terrorists had been exceedingly vague about their demands. And they’d kept the hostages alive the whole time as the team approached, making contact with the outside to assure everyone the hostages were okay. It’s almost like they were trying to prevent the plane from turning around. It was unclear when exactly the hostages died, or why. But authorities were able to confirm their deaths occurred after the transport plane entered silent running. It would have been very hard for the terrorists to spot. The drop would have been nearly impossible to catch too. Their coms were all encrypted and masked. They shouldn’t have been detected.

Unless the terrorists were specifically watching for them. At the right time. At the right place. 

Someone tipped them off.

The official word was simply coincidence bad timing. But Reyes was sure. Someone had compromised the mission. 

Before Reyes and the others even made it to a hospital, news of Overwatch’s disastrous operation had spread. Sensational articles with an astounding amount of detail for how little time had passed sprang up everywhere. Morrison had been dragged away to deal with the fall out practically before he had a chance to clean the blood off. 

Reyes ran his fingers gently over Morrison’s hands, tracing the tendons and knuckles idly, letting silence fall over them again. It was strange how natural having Jack’s arms around him felt. And this time there was no alcohol, no painkillers, no adrenaline clouded head. Just a faint haze of grief and exhaustion. It was just peaceful, warm, familiar. He’d never been closer to anyone before. Expanding their relationship to include this just felt... right.

Gabriel tilted his head back, finding Jack’s chin with his lips. Stubble. Again. But after a few long, slow kisses, Jack’s soft lips made their way to Gabriel’s. He laced his fingers through Jack’s golden hair, slowly pushing himself out of the chair, while still holding Jack close, not wanting their lips to part. Eventually as he stood he finally had to let go, the tangle of their limbs not allowing the kiss to continue without repositioning. 

The two stared at each other in silence for a long while. Gabriel momentarily losing himself in the blue of Jack’s eyes, the dimly lit, cramped room vanishing. How many times had he looked into those eyes? Watched them smile, laugh, mourn, take on that deadly focus. How many times had an urge arisen in the back of his mind to grab him, enfold him into an embrace and never let go? A quiet urge he stubbornly ignored like so many other little voices and suggestions rattling around in his mind, until the pull had just become too great, alone together, drunk. There was no resisting it anymore. 

As he stared he saw in his mind's eye the black face paint, visor, blood...felt the bolt of terror shoot through his chest at the thought that he was about to be killed. It had almost been too much.

Jack leaned in for another kiss, but Gabriel slowly dodged his lips out of the way, burying his face in the crook of Jack’s neck instead, sliding his arms around the man’s waist, pulling him close, sagging his exhausted weight against him.

“I don’t think we should go on missions together anymore.” Reyes murmured.

“What, why?” Jack asked, trying to gently push Gabriel away, to look him in the eye, but Reyes hung on, keeping his face stubbornly where it was. Jack surrendered easily enough.

“You compromise my judgment.”

“What are you talking about? Coming after me? You saved us by doing that. We wouldn't have been able to retake the trunk and escape otherwise.” Jack murmured into Gabriel’s ear, wrapping his arms around him, happily accepting his weight.

“I would have come after you regardless. That was just a fortunate coincidence. I can’t…”

“Gabe, we’ve fought together for years. You said you missed it. I don’t understand-”

“Yes. We were, are, soldiers. But...we’re more than comrades in arms. You’re a part of me, I’ve shared more of my life with you than anyone else. And for years- years I’ve resisted...I couldn’t...I held it all in, and now the dam’s broken and there’s no going back-” Gabriel muttered, rambled, squeezing Jack tighter and tighter as he spoke. _I almost lost you, and under my command…_

Jack slid a hand up and down Reyes’s back in a soothing motion, nuzzling the other man’s hair. “Shh...Gabriel...you’re tired. We’re both tired. We can talk later.”

Reyes let out a weak half laugh, melting under Jack’s touch. He should find the whole thing condescending, but he can feel the sincerity and warmth coming from him. “You’re the one who’s been wanting to talk this whole time…”

“I know,” Morrison replied, a faint hint of amusement tinging his voice. “I can wait a little longer.”

Jack slowly began shuffling the both of them towards the bed. Reyes still had his private bunk at Overwatch headquarters. It was larger than standard issue, to be sure, with room for a small desk, and a few other luxuries like his prized mini fridge, but the bed was still the dominant feature in the room. A small smile crept onto Reyes’ lips as Jack peeled back the sheets, and laid Gabriel onto the bed. 

“What is this? Going to tuck me in?” Reyes asked with a bemused smile.

“Only if I can join you.” Jack replied, leaning down to nuzzle into Gabriel’s neck. A contented hum rumbled in Gabriel’s chest as he felt Jack’s lips nibbling lightly against his skin.

“Don’t you have Overwatch business to deal with?”

“Nah, it’s time for bed. Doctors orders.” Jack muttered, crawling under the sheets with him, dragging the blankets back over the top of them.

Gabriel slid his hands under Jack’s shirt, muttering something half coherent about wearing too much. The two then slowly started undressing one another, fingers carefully, gently tracing the contours of muscles and old scars as they removed one garment at a time, tenderly exploring each other’s bodies in a way they never had before. The discarded clothes were unceremoniously kicked to the foot of the bed in a clump, until they reached their boxers. They finally sagged against each other, too exhausted to even consider going further, and drifted off to sleep.

***

Soldier 76 peered over Angela’s shoulder at her various screens and monitors. They flashed numbers, wavering lines, graphs. Just when he thought he could piece together what he was looking at- heart rate? Blood pressure? Temperature, surely- no...the numbers changed, constantly shifting out of any sort of normal range Jack knew of. Maybe it was just something to do with whatever weird proprietary system Dr. Ziegler used. 

“Can I help you?” Angela finally said, tersely, shooting a faint glare over her shoulder. Jack raised his hands in surrender. She’d been on edge ever since they brought Reaper in. She also seemed to know a strangely large amount about his condition, a condition that remained a total mystery to everyone else. She had been less than forthcoming about what she knew, or why she knew any of it. 

“Uh...how is he?” Jack asked, eyeing their patient. Reaper lay on a bed, which really struck Jack as more of a table than anything else, encapsulated in what he could only describe as an over sized fish tank. Winston and Angela had been trying to figure out ways to keep the man from misting out of their custody. This was their solution. So far. Reaper hadn’t regained consciousness to test it.

“He’s alive.” Angela said firmly, before muttering under her breath, “if you can call it that…”

“Pardon?” 

Angela sighed, shaking her head, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry. He’s...Unique. I don’t believe you did any permanent damage when you tasered him, if that’s what you’re asking about.”

“But why isn’t he awake yet? And why is he still wearing… _that._ ” Jack asked, waving an arm at their captive. He was still fully hooded, gloved and masked. He had a hard enough time believing his old friend was under all of that black without having to stare at it constantly, as he lay motionless and helpless. Jack desperately wanted to see him.

“Entering the enclosure to remove it seemed ill advised.” Angela said simply, punching a few buttons on their monitors, the displays unceremoniously flicking off as she folded her arms, still staring at her patient.

“But...It’s been over twenty four hours. I don’t see any IVs, doesn’t he need water? Nutrients?” Jack barked, suddenly alarmed. Angela seemed to shrink under the sudden scolding, shifting her eyes to the floor. 

“He’ll be fine. He’s gone longer stretches without...I’m not even sure if he…” Angel trailed off, then shook her head with a sigh. “He’s fine. It’s late, I’m going to bed. You’re welcome to stay and keep an eye on him. My monitors should alert me if there’s any change in his condition.” With that, Angela gave him a strained smile, and left, almost as if she was fleeing the room. 

Solder 76 sighed and rolled over a chair. He sat in it and stared at Reaper. It felt like the strangest hospital vigil. And in a sense it was. His dear friend was very ill. He had to be. There was simply no way the Gabe he knew would do the things Reaper had done. 

Then again, there had been signs that this was coming. Well. Maybe not _this_ specifically. No one could possibly have predicted this. But something had been brewing. Something Jack was too stubborn to acknowledge. He didn’t listen until it was too late. He let Gabriel down. 

It all started after that night in the hotel room. Gabe had been too damn drunk, Jack knew he should have pushed the other man away. Sent him to bed. Not leaned into his touch, his lips. But he couldn’t resist. There were years of longing pushing him forward, a longing he had absolutely no idea Gabriel shared until that night. Or really, later, in that dark forest...The look in Gabriel’s eyes. Wild. Possessive. Like he’d just dispatched their enemies and now demanded his prize.

He swallowed thickly at the memories. They were some of the moments Jack clung to, played again and again in his mind during lonely nights. He could still feel Gabriel’s fingers digging through his hair. Biting his lips, demanding, pulling him in with a fury and passion Jack had never felt from a lover, before or since. 

News of Reyes’ demise crushed him. He’d lost friends many times before. The possibility of Gabriel falling during any number of their missions had occurred to him many times over. He thought he was prepared for such an eventuality. He wasn’t. He found himself kneeling on Gabriel’s grave, surrounded by the flowers of his mourners, weeping bitterly, shaking, gripping his biceps, holding himself, like he could replicate the warmth of Gabriel’s arms around him. They hadn’t been on good terms at the end, and that just made the pain all the more unbearable. He wanted to crawl into his own empty grave, the headstone wasn’t far away after all. Maybe then he’d feel closer.

“I’m sorry,” Jack had whispered over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

It started Jack down his path to becoming Soldier 76. Gabriel tried to tell him, tried to warn him about the sickness that was growing. The strange force that took down Overwatch. But he’d been too stupid and arrogant to listen. And now, years later he was trying to piece together the pieces of what Reyes tried to tell him. Trying to get to the bottom of what happened, who destroyed Overwatch, and who was responsible for Gabriel’s death. He hated the lie that the fateful explosion had been caused by a fight between himself and Reyes. There had certainly been a fight that day. There had been countless fights by that time, it seemed like all the others ever saw was them fighting. The reports of a rift between them were far from unsubstantiated. At least from an outside observer. But no, what happened went far beyond petty bickering and an accident. 

Gabriel’s death left a hollow in Jack’s soul. One he never hoped to fill. And now here he was. Laying feet away. Alive. But unquestionably changed. 

Jack bolted to his feet, running his hands over his white hair, he began pacing furiously. He couldn’t stand this, this was insane. What was under that mask? He had to see him.

He approached the glass barrier that encapsulated Reaper, examining it closely. A faint electric hum emanated from somewhere. Jack tentatively reached out a finger and touched the glass, fully expecting a shock. Instead he was greeted by nothing but a faint tingle. He frowned, wondering briefly how this bizarre cage was supposed to work, but Winston knew what he was doing. Most of the time. 

Jack strode over to the entrance which was locked by a keypad. He punched in his personal access code and heard the lock click open.

_This is a bad idea, what are you doing?_

Stubbornly ignoring the voice of reason, Jack quickly stepped inside the enclosure and snapped the door shut behind him. The lock emitted a faint click and buzz as it reengaged. He slowly crept the few remaining feet to the bed, like he was approaching a sleeping dragon. He stood over the black draped figure for a long moment, staring down at the mask. _I guess we both wear masks now…_ Slowly, tentatively, he reached out a hand, tracing a finger along the edge of the strange birdlike skull, suddenly scared to find out what lay beneath. 

He leaned over his old friend, studying him, trying to puzzle out the best way to remove the mask without waking him-

_Crack!_

Jack reeled backwards, his vision flickering as Reaper abruptly lurched forward, headbutting him, their masks colliding loudly. A black haze of smoke rose around Jack, swirling past him, around him, sending chills down his spine. Reaper reformed behind him, and abruptly slammed 76’s head into the table. A quiet voice in the back of Jack’s head reminded him to scold Angela for this. This was in fact a table, not a bed at all...the welt on his forehead would be the perfect reminder. 

Jack spun, blocking another swing. He grabbed Reaper’s arm, ducking a wild blow from his other hand and charged the man into the side of the enclosure, slamming him hard against the wall. But Reaper managed to twist out of his grip, throwing an elbow at Jack’s face, which he barely dodged. The two went back and forth for a few brief moments, Jack unable to shake a bizarre sense of deja vu. They’d sparred so many times, these moves were all so familiar. It really was Reyes under there. Fortunately, Jack had learned some new tricks since they’d been apart. Unfortunately, so had Reyes. 

Just when Morrison thought he had the upper hand, his opponent turned it around on him. Before he knew what was happening, he found a clawed glove clamped around his neck as he was slammed against the wall of the enclosure. Once again a sense of deja vu overtook him, only this time with an accompanying flush rising in his cheeks. 

“Gabe!” Jack gasped, grabbing desperately at Reaper’s wrist with both hands. 

Reaper leaned forward, the blank eyes of his mask seemed to bore into him. He tilted his head ever so slightly, scrutinizing him like some great, terrible bird as Jack slowly gave up struggling. The vice like grip around his neck didn’t yield, but it wasn’t quite tight enough to choke him out.

Morrison stared back, painfully aware of how blank his own masked stare must be. “Gabriel…” He finally breathed, his hands shaking as he clutched at his opponent’s arm. Jack reached out with one hand, slowly feeling up Reaper’s arm, reaching tentatively for the mask- only to have his hand caught in Reaper’s other clawed glove. He slammed Jack’s hand against the barrier, hard. Jack winced, feeling the claws dig in, but was quickly distracted as Reaper leaned in closer, pressing him to the wall, pinning him, Winston’s electric field tingling along his back.

Reaper’s head tilted again, examining Jack, inches away. Something seemed to shift in his demeanor, as Jack stared at him, motionless, his heart racing. Slowly, methodically, the clawed thumb of Reaper’s glove started to drag its way across Jack’s neck, digging in painfully, leaving a red line, but not quite drawing blood. Morrison’s eyes fluttered shut as an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see Gabriel’s face. It was him under there, touching him again, after so many years. 

“Gabriel…” He sighed again nuzzling into the gloved hand as it journeyed up from his neck, painfully cupping his cheek, the claws digging in behind his ear, hard enough to draw blood this time. Then, all at once, the hand dropped away, and Reaper seemed to go entirely limp, sagging forward, falling. Jack caught the man before he hit the ground, hugging him tightly, holding him up. Reaper’s head lulled for a few moments, before he finally regained some coordination.

“What did you do to me?” The strange, almost unearthly voice hissed from behind the mask as the man struggled to get his feet under him again. 

“I don’t-” Jack started, interrupted as he nearly fell over, the weight suddenly disappearing as Reaper again turned into a cloud of black smoke, sliding away, fleeing to the other side of the table before reforming, bracing himself against it to remain standing. Somewhere behind him Morrison heard a door open, followed by frantic running steps.

“Jack! What the hell are you doing!” Angela’s alarmed voice called, muffled through the enclosure, but the tinge of panic carried through loud and clear. He held up a hand, signaling for her to stand by as he watched Reaper. He wasn’t about to take his eyes off of him. He heard Angela punching her access code into the door lock.

“Jack! Get out of there, come on!”

Morrison backed his way towards the door, his eyes never leaving Reaper, while the other man braced himself on the table, staring right back. Finally he slipped out the door, Angela frantically closing and locking it behind him.

“What were you thinking!?” Angela squealed, hitting Morrison in the shoulder, before hurrying back to her monitors, flicking the screens back on, muttering in German. She scanned the screens, then looked back to Jack with a glare, though it quickly faded away, replaced with concern. “God. You’re bleeding- go to the infirmary...that welt looks bad.” 

Morrison tentatively touched his forehead, feeling the sharp sting. He nodded, giving Reaper one last look, as the wraith repositioned himself, sitting on the table, settling in to watch them.

“Right. Sorry…” Morrison muttered, almost sheepish before slinking out of the room. His head was spinning. And it wasn’t just from the injury… 

***

Reyes woke to Jack slowly stroking his hair. He sighed, leaving his eyes stubbornly closed, stirring only to inch closer to the man. It was far too pleasant for him to want to wake up…

“Good morning…” Jack murmured anyway. Gabriel sighed, cracking his eyes open, muttering a half formed “‘mornin’” in response. A few moments later his eyes fluttered the rest of the way open, surprised to discover sunlight pouring in through the window. Not moonlight, not a faint pre-dawn glow. Actual sunlight. He sat up slowly, checking the clock. He’d slept nearly nine hours. He hadn’t slept that long in six months, at least.

Jack smiled at the look of bewilderment on Gabriel’s face, still petting him affectionately. The man was fully dressed, freshly washed, and sitting on top of the blankets. “I hate to wake you, but we have a meeting with Mr. Warren in twenty…Also I hope you don’t mind, I used your shower. I made sure to save some hot water for you though. Figured we’d stop by the mess and grab something to eat on our way there-” Jack cut himself off with a faint chuckle as Reyes reached up, halfheartedly trying to slap his hand over Jack’s mouth to shut him up, and instead ended up just generally pawing at his face. He groaned faintly. 

“I don’t need a status report, Morrison.” He muttered through a yawn, though not without a smirk. 

“Well, you should still get up.” Jack chided, patting Reyes’ head before standing. He looked around the room for a moment, a frown slowly developing on his face. He stooped down and bundled up Gabriel’s discarded clothes from the evening and dumped them in the hamper...then started picking up other stray clothes from around the room, disposing of them the same way. “Christ, Reyes...I didn’t realize what a mess this place was in the dark. Why are you like this? Why is there a jockstrap on this chair? How...how old is this?” He asked, finding an empty ramen container hiding behind Gabriel’s computer monitor.

Gabriel laughed as he sat up, stretching. “Not sure.”

“To which, the ramen, or the jock?”

“Both.” Reyes smirked, sliding to the edge of the bed, planting his feet on the floor before stifling another yawn.

“How did they not beat this out of you at bootcamp?” Jack asked, continuing his mini cleaning frenzy, while Gabriel watched with a grin. 

“I failed pretty much every bunk check.”

“How...how does that even work?”

Gabriel flexed, still grinning. “I wound up doing a shitload of pushups. And planks. And lunges…Got to scrub out quite a few toilets too.”

“Oh right, you said your drill sergeant hated you, didn’t he?”

“Yep. And also, good morning to you too.” He chuckled, finally getting to his feet. He wandered over to Morrison, put his hands on the man’s cheeks, and planted a kiss on his lips, before pulling away with a grin. “Besides, why start being tidy now if I’m just gonna have some cute blond come in and pick up after me?” He asked, grinning wickedly and ruffling Jack’s hair before he slid off to the bathroom. 

Reyes appreciated having a private bathroom, but simultaneously hated it. He almost preferred to use the open, public showers. His bathroom was just so tiny and claustrophobic. But he’d gotten used to it. The privacy was still worthwhile.

Gabriel felt light. He’d spent the night entwined in the arms of his best friend, now...substantially more. They still hadn’t talked, but for some reason it just didn’t feel necessary. Like they’d come to a sudden mutual understanding. Were they lovers now? Did it matter? All he knew was it felt right. It felt natural...And apparently helped with his insomnia, which was a bonus. He could only hope that side effect lasted.

After a quick wash, he emerged from the bathroom to find Jack done with his cleaning fit, seated instead on the edge of the now neatly made bed, fiddling with his phone. “You ready?” He asked as soon as Reyes finished dressing and raked his fingers through his hair, returning it to some semblance of order. He needed to shave it off again...

Reyes nodded, heading for the door, though he froze before his fingers touched the handle. He spun suddenly, eyeing Jack earnestly. “Wait. Let me make sure...we’re keeping this,” he gestured at the both of them, “quiet, right?”

“Are you kidding? Can you imagine the fallout we’d have to deal with if this got out?” Jack said, almost laughing.

“Good. I was worried for a second we’d have to have that ‘are you embarrassed of me?’ talk…” Reyes said with a smirk. “Wait then...should you go first...how should…”

Morrison rolled his eyes, pushed past him, and opened the door. “Dragging your ass out of your room for a meeting is far from suspicious. Come on, I’m starving.”

The two made their way down to the cafeteria, Reyes leaving Morrison’s side only momentarily to breeze past McCree, smoothly plucking a cigarette from the young man’s lips and dropping it in his coffee before the cowboy even knew what happened. He grinned at the string of profanity hollered at his back as he wound his way to the pastry bar. Yes, it sounded like Jesse was recovering from his injuries just fine. 

The meeting was dull and uninspired. Just an update about the hostage debacle and how the media had latched onto it, branding it as an enormous Overwatch failure, and a clear sign of mismanagement and thriving incompetence within the organization. A bunch of paramilitary idiots barging into a sensitive hostage situation and getting everyone killed. Yet their UN liaison gave no indication that the debacle was any sort of trap or set up, which Reyes was positive it had to have been. 

A chill settled into Reyes’ stomach as the meeting went on. He grew quiet, listening to Warren and Morrison go back and forth. Suddenly all of the concern about branding it an Overwatch mission made sense. If the goal was to discredit Overwatch… And they’d sent both himself and Morrison into a death trap. It was unusual for the strike commander and the head of Blackwatch to be in the field together. If they both went down, who would take over?

He watched the liaison's face carefully, scrutinizing him, looking for signs of duplicity. Maybe the man at the table with them wasn’t involved. But the feeling that this debacle was far from a mistake grew and grew in Reyes’ stomach. Something terribly wrong was happening. He could feel it.

Reyes glanced down at his com as the meeting droned on. The eyepiece still had red speckles on it. He grabbed it, discreetly polishing it on his shirt under the table. No red wiped off on his clothes. The eye piece was clean. He shook his head and set the device aside. A trick of the light, perhaps...

After the meeting, Reyes made his way silently to the command level, lost in thought. Mr. Warren seemed content to let the matter drop, and move forward, and Jack agreed with him. But that was not what Reyes had in mind. Fortunately, Blackwatch had the ability to operate independently. An ability he fully intended to utilize in this matter. This was far from over. 

The elevator felt smaller than usual as they rode up to command level. Eventually he noticed Jack’s hand in front of his face, fingers snapping. He blinked over at the man, raising a brow. 

“There you are. You were a thousand miles away. You okay?” Morrison asked, looking Reyes over. He shook his head.

“Just thinking about what happened. There’s more than what he’s telling us. I’m sure of it.”

Jack frowned. “Gabe. It was a tragedy, I’ll give you that. But it was just a tragedy, nothing more. Bad timing and bad luck.”

“But how did they find your position?”

“They must have stumbled on the truck-”

“How did they find Bravo’s position?”

“I don’t know! McCree’s loud mouth?”

Reyes glared. “My men are _well trained_. None of them gave away our position.” 

“Gabe, you’re just being paranoid. Please. Let it drop. Probing the matter any more is just going to make it worse…” He sighed. After a moment of awkward silence, Morrison finally elbowed Reyes gently, smiling. “Hey, dinner at my place tonight? I’ll get take out from that shit Chinese joint you like.”

Reyes smirked back at the man, despite himself. “You make it sound so appealing. Shit Chinese takeout consumed in cramped crew quarters… But yeah, that sounds nice. And also fuck you, Jade Garden is delicious.”

“I spot at minimum five health code violations every time I walk in that place.” Morrison muttered with a distant frown, which only made Gabriel’s smile grow. 

“See? That’s where all the flavor comes from.”

Morrison visibly shuddered at the thought, drawing a laugh from Reyes as the elevator doors finally slid open.

“The owner’s a nice guy, you should talk to him some time,” Reyes chuckled, giving Jack a playful punch to the arm. “Then maybe the fly tape won’t bother you so much…”

“Of course you know the owner...And it’s fine. I’ve eaten at worse places,” Jack said with a crooked smirk, before Lena literally appeared next to him, holding up a tablet with some important information, spiriting the Strike Commander away. 

With that distraction over, Reyes’ mind immediately switched back to the business at hand. He went to his command console and set up meetings with three of his best covert operatives, off base, in person. He wasn’t going to trust Overwatch equipment or facilities for this. Something was compromised. And he was going to find out what. Those three sniper shots echoed in his head. Two of his men, gone in an instant, and his closest companion spared only by his inhuman reflexes and luck. The images of that night rolled around in his head, and he felt a simmering anger burning in the pit of his stomach, replacing the cold foreboding. If someone wanted to bring down Overwatch, they were going to have to get through him first.

Gabriel’s com started flashing, urgently. He answered, only to hear the unfortunate news. A small team infiltrating a criminal organization had been compromised. They’d fled in a shootout, and needed emergency extraction. It looked like their dinner date would have to wait...


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to give a heads up that the rating changed to E. Didn't want to catch anyone off guard! I'm not entirely sure where the line is, but I suspect I crossed it! Hah.
> 
> *obligatory hump day joke here*

“Hey guys! You wouldn't believe what I just heard- oh…” Lucio said as he burst into the common area, carrying two large bags of takeout. Everyone was already gathered around a screen, broadcasting breaking news. It seemed two of the main suspected leaders of Talon had been killed in a massive firefight after a spectacularly botched mission. It looked to be the very mission Reaper had sent them on, and was managing from afar when Overwatch apprehended him.

“Do you think...he planned this?” Reinhardt suggested hesitantly, hopefully.

Winston huffed. “It seems more likely our intervention caused the operation to go south on them.”

“But we already thought it was suspicious that he wasn’t going with them,” Reinhardt pointed out, eagerly reaching into a bag as Lucio plopped it down on the table. “Perhaps his goal was to destroy them from the inside?”

“...That would make sense...with how Reyes operated,” Jack pointed out, though also unsure. He didn’t know what to make of the whole thing. 

Winston let out a snort as he passed along cartons of Chinese food Reinhardt handed off to him. “Yes. Perhaps he was trying to create a power vacuum, so he could insert himself as their head.” 

“That...also would be in his playbook,” Solider 76 admitted reluctantly as his carton finally made it around the table. 

It was supposed to be a low key night with a well deserved movie break. Or at least that’s what Lucio had insisted on, no doubt in hopes of breaking two solid days of anxiety. But everyone had been distracted by the news the second they flicked on the television. Winston and Athena had been trying to decrypt everything they gathered after apprehending Reaper, but hadn’t unveiled anything critical so far. Jack had to wonder if Winston was simply bitter that the television was unveiling hints to the operation before he could...

Jack snatched up a second box of chow mein and a couple pairs of chopsticks before standing and stretching. 

“I think I’m going to go relieve Dr. Ziegler,” he said.

“And miss the movie? Get someone else to do it! It’s a classic!” Lucio pleaded. Jack smiled at him, despite himself.

“I’ve already seen it.”

“I haven’t even said what it is yet!” Lucio called, as Jack started making his way out of the room.

“I’m sure Angela will love it,” Jack called back. 

He made his way back to the lab, where they still kept Reaper in his bizarre cage. He’d been awake ever since he and Jack had their encounter. Which was slightly unsettling, since it had been well over twenty four hours, and the wraith showed no signs of wanting to sleep. There was something of a running bet going on about whether he simply didn’t need to sleep, or if he was intentionally staying awake to watch them and a rather successful attempt to be generally unnerving.

_Or maybe it’s still insomnia…_

Jack didn’t bother adding that possibility to the betting pool. 

Reaper had been, unsurprisingly, almost entirely uncommunicative. Other than to occasionally throw around insults, especially at Winston, or to sigh with distant annoyance. Jack wondered for how much longer he’d be able to keep that up. But if there was one thing he knew about Reyes, it was that the man could be incredibly stubborn. 

Dr. Zeigler smiled when Jack entered, rounding the desk to greet him, reaching for one of the cartons, thanking him for bringing it, until he held it out of reach, shaking his head. 

“I’m here to relieve you, your food’s back in the common area,” he said, drawing a pointed frown from Angela. 

“You’ve come to relieve me. To sit here. Alone. And keep an eye on him,” she clarified, jerking a thumb at Reaper, who stood by silently, watching like some great unsettling bird. 

“Yeah, you deserve a break. Go have fun.”

Angela gave him a skeptical look, folding her arms. She glanced between Jack and Reaper a few more times. “You promise not to do anything stupid this time?” 

“I swear,” Jack said with a smile. He about got his ear chewed off last time after Angela determined Reaper was still successfully contained and Jack wasn’t seriously injured. Fortunately she seemed to believe him when he promised not to do it again. She fully admitted, the situation was hard on everyone, especially the old crew. And fortunately for Jack, she didn’t seem to know the particulars of his history with Reyes, other than that they were close friends. So he was able to blame the incident on garden variety stupidity as opposed to what really pulled him in.

She gave their captive a scrutinizing look, before offering Jack a small smile. She thanked him and walked out of the room, giving him one last order to behave himself. 

“So. This is the part where you let me out, right?” Reaper growled, the sarcasm clear in his voice.

“Not quite.” Jack walked over to the cage, and slid open a small panel. He held one of the boxes of food through, along with a pair of chopsticks. It was a one way forcefield, theoretically allowing persons on the outside to pass things through without whatever was inside getting out. Angela had modified it from a medical field designed for that purpose. “Angela said you don’t really need to eat anymore...but here. Shitty chow mein. Your favorite.”

Reaper stood, arms folded, staring at the proffered carton, head tilted slightly. But he remained silent. Jack scowled as the moments dragged on, the forcefield buzzing angrily at the continued disruption by the carton.

“You know what? Fine,” Morrison snapped, letting go of the box. It fell with an unceremonious thump, the top springing open. A few stray noodles toppled out, though most of the contents remained clumped in an unsettling mass safely inside the container. Reaper watched it drop, unmoving except the subtle tilt of his mask. After a few long moments of silently staring at the box, Reaper looked back up at Jack. 

“What happened to your face?” Reaper grumbled, inclining his chin slightly at Jack. Morrison scowled. His mouth plate was gone, revealing a few extra scars underneath, but his visor remained on.

“Asks the guy wearing a full body suit and mask. Which he has refused to take off for two days,” He grumbled back. Reaper just folded his arms, watching Morrison silently, head cocked slightly to the side. Jack sighed, giving up. “Ocular nerve degeneration. A side effect of my…’genetics.’” He finally confessed. To his surprise, this drew a low, rumbling laugh from Reaper. Morrison glared. “What’s so funny?”

“They really fucked us up. Didn’t they?”

Jack huffed, “I suppose. But with this visor, I see better now than I ever did before.”

Reaper inclined his head. “Mm. I suppose that makes sense. You always were a little short sighted.”

“Why you son-”

Reaper’s laugh cut Jack off. Partly for its volume, partly for Jack’s surprise at the missing edge of malice. It almost sounded sincere.

“It’s good to know some things never change.” Reaper said, the smirk on his lips carrying clearly in his voice. “I still know exactly how to piss you off.”

Jack rolled his eyes and wandered over to Dr. Zeigler’s desk. He flopped in her chair, and cracked open his own carton of noodles. After a few bites he started pecking away at one of the keyboards. Surely he should be able to link one of the monitors up with what was being shown in the common area…

After a few moments, he managed to find the feed, it looked like the movie was just getting started. He put it up on one of the monitors, making sure to select a screen Reaper could at least mostly see. Morrison sat back, propped his feet up on the desk, and settled into watch whatever strange extravaganza Lucio had picked out for them. 

Jack wasn’t quite sure what he was watching. It was brightly colored. Energetic to the point of being almost manic, clearly low budget (though with a very prominent original score) and with a painfully incoherent plot. Something with magic? Saving the world? Aliens? About thirty minutes in, he was surprised to hear Reaper’s voice.

“This. Is the worst movie. I have ever seen,” he rumbled, though with an edge of lighthearted amusement Jack hadn’t heard from the wraith yet. He sounded almost disbelieving.

“Yes. Yes it is…” Jack replied, glancing over to Reaper, startled to discover he had moved. He sat on his table, mask tilted back ever so slightly, so he could feed noodles up behind it. Though Jack still couldn’t see his face. Reaper also somehow navigated the chopsticks with his gloves on. Morrison couldn’t help but be mildly impressed…

“You forgot the beer,” Reyes chided, in a tone so familiar it threw Jack for a loop. For a moment it almost felt like he was just watching a movie with his old friend instead of...whatever this was. 

“I’m pretty sure Angela would kill me if I gave you alcohol.” 

“You know. Psychological torture is still torture.” Reaper grumbled. 

“What? Because I’m not giving you beer?”

“No. Forcing me to watch _that_ ,” he said, pointing his chopsticks at the screen.

“You don’t have to watch,” Jack laughed, smirking back.

“I can’t look away.”

“Well. The torture worked. Now you’ve finally revealed one of your weaknesses to us. Terrible movies.” 

“Who picked this thing anyway? Lena?” 

“Nah, Lucio. New guy. Nice kid…” Jack said, the smile melting from his face, slowly replaced with a stabbing pain grabbing hold of his chest. Simply talking like this. It was like old times, but so wrong. They should be curled up on a couch together. Gabriel leaning into his side, Jack’s arm across his shoulders as Gabriel spilled popcorn in their laps. That pull to touch him again, hold him, _see_ him clawed at Jack, as sharply as Reaper’s gloves had… But he swallowed it back down. 

Jack made sure his back was to Reaper, hoping to hide the pain that was no doubt making it to his face, even despite the visor. 

The two fell back into silence for a while, Reaper occasionally snickering at the stupidity of the movie. When the credits finally rolled around, the captive was strangely quiet. Morrison peered over his shoulder, hesitantly, and was surprised to find Reaper laying on the bed, seemingly asleep. Jack stood quietly, approaching the cage.

_I swear I can only sleep when you’re around._ The memory of Gabe’s voice rang painfully clear through his head. No...he’d simply been awake for over a day. It was late. It was perfectly reasonable for him to have fallen asleep. That was wishful thinking. 

He almost looked peaceful, laying there on his side, his chest slowly rising and falling, a strangely reassuring sign that he was, in fact, still at least somewhat human. The empty carton lay on a minuscule side table, along with an almost ignored glass and pitcher of water Angela provided earlier. 

After a time McCree entered the lab. He walked over to Jack, standing and staring in at Reaper with a look of surprise.

“He asleep?” he whispered.

“I think so…”

McCree grinned crookedly. “Well. Guess I won the bet.” He stood in silence next to Jack for a while, staring at their captive, shoulders sagging. “You okay?” He finally asked, looking to Morrison.

“Yeah? Fine.” Jack raised a brow, watching the cowboy as he shifted his weight, still eyeing Jack.

“‘S just. I know you two were…Ya know. _Close_ ,” he said, quietly enough that Reaper wouldn’t be able to hear, even if he was awake.

Morrison stared at him, startled. From the tone and the look, there was no use denying it. He obviously knew. “He told you?” He asked, somewhat disbelieving.

“Nah. Figured it out,” he said, smirking in a way that showed he was clearly not revealing the whole story. “Don’t think anyone else ever got wise. Lena suspected at one point. But ‘m not sure if she knew.”

Silence stretched on for a few moments as Jack stood, staring, arms folded, thinking. _No. I’m really not fine…_ He shook the thought away. Now was not the time for this nonsense. 

“I’m fine,” Jack repeated, drawing a skeptical nod from McCree.

“Well good then. I can take over here, why don’t you go on off and get some sleep? Don’t look like he’s goin’ anywhere for now.” McCree nudged Jack’s arm, and Morrison, reluctantly nodded. He headed back to his bunk, but had no desire to sleep. He sat down in front of his computer and started flipping through old mission reports, case files...then he found a bank of photos. Candids and selfies taken by various members of Overwatch, preserved in this file for posterity. Why had Jack never seen it before? 

The old memories brought a smile to Jack’s lips. He came across a photo of Gabe casually sitting on a young McCree’s back, scrolling through a tablet as the cowboy did pushups, looking like he was about to collapse. Jack wished he could remember the incident, but honestly Jesse got in so much trouble back then it could have been one of dozens of occasions. Then there was another picture of himself, with Reyes to his right and Lena to his left. Jack smiled into the camera, posing with some degree of seriousness, while Lena crossed her eyes and stuck her tongue out and Gabe gave him bunny ears while looking off into the distance with a stoic expression that was starkly incongruent with the bunny ears. 

He came to another rather undignified picture of himself and Gabe. He was asleep in the the back of an airplane, with Gabe asleep next to him, leaning his head on his shoulder, mouth slack. Then, next to Gabe were three other agents, including McCree, all leaning on each other in a row, mirroring Gabe’s pose, McCree leaning in like he was sleeping on Reyes’ shoulder, though carefully avoiding actual contact. Jack smiled, until he recognized when the photo must have been taken. Before that terrible hostage mission. The second man in line had died probably less than an hour after the picture was taken.

Jack flicked off the computer screen and headed to bed, the warm feelings generated by his trip down memory lane turning into icy cold despair. 

_What happened to you? How did everything go so wrong?_

***

“Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Jack asked, leaning across the small bistro table, littered with takeout cartons. They finally had a quiet evening. Together. Though Reyes’ mind kept wandering, trying to decide how to instruct his agents, but this was a nice break. Alone in Jack’s room at Overwatch headquarters, which was really a mirror image of his own...if a cleaner, tidier version. 

“What? Get takeout?” Reyes asked with a smirk, fishing the last stray noodle from a carton with his chopsticks. Jack rolled his eyes.

“You know what I mean.”

“I suppose we were a bit busy… Still are, it seems.” Gabriel said after taking a long swig of cheap beer. Yes, Jack really did know his tastes. His awful, awful tastes. 

It was almost strange. He’d never been romantically involved with someone he had known from the start like this. But it was pleasant. None of the awkward tapdancing, trying to impress a partner he may or may not even have anything in common with. The conversations were as natural as they had always been, and the silences weren’t awkward, just comfortable. Peaceful even. 

They had known each other, and been close for so long, it was almost a surprise to realize there were still secrets left between them. But as he stripped off Jack’s clothes those nights ago, and found scars he didn’t remember, old wounds he didn’t know the stories for, he realized there were still things left to discover. And he’d already made many new discoveries. The way Jack’s lips tasted. The quiet, shuddering gasps he let out when Gabriel nibbled on his neck. How Jack’s fingers felt, digging into Gabriel’s chest. How those vibrant blue eyes still seemed to sparkle even in dimly lit quarters while leaning over half eaten crappy takeout...

He smiled as Jack promptly began gathering up their empty containers, disposing of them, and then wiping down the table for good measure. Then there were other things that were all too familiar, like Jack’s complete inability to tolerate a mess. 

Then another surprise, as Jack finished picking up, he strode over to Reyes, straddling him in his flimsy chair, settling his weight down on Gabreil’s legs, looping his arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss. Gabriel leaned up into the gentle embrace, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist. Jack finally pulled away after a long, lingering moment, gazing down at him, running his fingers through his hair. Gabriel’s heart pounded. It was almost like a dream, like his deepest fantasy come to life. He still couldn’t quite believe it when their lips met. So many years, so close, but they never crossed that line. Now that they’d tumbled across it, he agreed with Jack...why had they waited for so long?

Jack leaned in again, nibbling on Gabriel’s ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” he breathed, drawing a faint, involuntary hum from Gabriel. More chills. He couldn’t muster a response, he felt he could hardly breathe. Instead he dove into Jack’s neck, inhaling his scent, tasting him, as he tightened his arms around his waist. 

A few moments later he paused, trying to shake off his rapture as he felt a faint creaking underneath him. He chuckled, despite himself. “We’re gonna break this chair.” 

Gabriel hooked his hands under Jack’s thighs, grinning wickedly, before he stood, lifting Jack off the ground with a faint grunt of exertion. Jack let out a startled noise, grabbing onto Gabriel’s shoulders for stability, then laughed at the sudden elevation change. Their lips met again as Gabriel walked a few paces to the bed, Jack digging his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, before being unceremoniously dumped on the mattress. Gabriel climbed on top of him, diving in, eager to continue. 

The rest of the world seemed to fade away. There was no botched mission, no creeping, digging suspicions, he wasn’t even in the Overwatch headquarters as far as he was concerned. All that remained in the world was the man writhing under his touch. The man exploring his body with his own caresses, pulling off his clothes. Everything was just breath, heat, and passion. 

Gabriel planted kisses and gentle nips down Jack’s chest. He flicked his tongue across his nipple, abs, darting into his belly button. He wanted to explore everything. Jack’s boxers were tented, and already darkened at the head by the time Gabriel got to them. Gabriel grinned widely, hooking his fingers in the waistband, and pulling them down, letting Jack spring free. Yet another discovery. That was certainly one view of his friend he’d never seen before. 

Settling in between Jack’s legs, he wrapped his lips around the man’s length, sliding down as far as he could, drawing an almost pained, startled gasp from Jack as he writhed, swearing, clutching at the blanket. He moved methodically, tonguing his way up and down in steady strokes, until Jack began to relax a bit, moaning. Gabriel slid a hand up Jack’s chest, pawing up the man’s neck, over his chin, dipping his fingers into his mouth. Jack grabbed his wrist with both hands, pulling the hand closer, eagerly sicking on his fingers, stifling a moan, his tongue whirling around the digits. It was enough to make Gabriel emit an aroused rumble of his own, amazed at how good it felt. 

After savoring the sensation of Jack’s tongue caressing his fingers, Gabriel withdrew his hand, Jack reluctantly letting his wrist go. Gabriel slid his fingers down, between Jack’s legs.

“What are you-?” Jack breathed, before cutting himself off with a sharp gasp, then a throaty moan, as Gabriel’s middle finger slid inside him, searching for, and finding the magic spot almost immediately. Jack arched his back at the massage, uttering a string of half coherent profanity. Gabriel lifted his lips from their exploration, leaning back to admire the sight in front of him. He was blushing, gasping, clutching the sheets, trying to bite back moans and choking out half formed expletives. After a few moments he managed to get enough composure to look down at Gabriel.

“Why...why’d you stop?” He asked, probably getting cold, swinging in the breeze. Gabriel smiled up at him with a wicked grin.

“Because watching you squirm is unbelievably hot,” he purred, sliding his index finger inside to join the first. Jack gasped out another expletive, arching his back.

“Fuck- I’ve never...I…” Jack panted out.

“Never been fingered before?” Gabriel asked, casually. Jack emitted another strangled moan, which was probably an affirmative response. Gabriel reached up, grasping, and lazily stroking Jack with his free hand, drawing pathetic noises from him. After a few moments he picked up the pace, stroking in earnest, massaging him inside with a steady rhythm, while Jack gasped out a breathless series of _fuck, fuck, fuck!_ He squirmed, clutching at the blankets, throwing his head back, pushing himself up into Gabreil’s hand, down on to his fingers, shuddering, too lost in the sensations to know what to do with himself. 

“If I can do this to you with my fingers...” Gabriel purred, savoring the sight, grinning wickedly. “Just imagine what else I can do...”

“Oh...fuck!” Jack gasped as his orgasm overtook him, his back arching, legs shaking, spasming around Gabriel’s fingers, spilling all over Gabriel’s hand, and onto his chest. He came down, panting and gasping, muttering a steady stream of _God, fuck...fuck..._ Gabriel smiled, licking the inside of his thigh, before kissing his way back up Jack’s chest. He settled in on the bed next to him, curling an arm around the gasping man, idly stroking his hair with the other. 

“Shit, Reyes...Fuck…” Jack finally managed, almost coherently, as he rolled to face his companion, smiling. He took Gabriel’s face in both hands, darting in for a kiss, trying to suppress his grin. “I’m gonna have my work cut out for me if I want to try and to beat that…”

“Oh? Is this a competition now?” Gabriel purred, stealing kisses here and there, as Jack’s hand slid down his side, his finger trailing along the waistband of his boxes, as Gabriel’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Well, I have to make sure it’s fair…”

_Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Code Red. Emergency. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz._

Both men jump as Jack’s com started vibrating its way across the nightstand, flashing bright red on its screen. Gabriel's eyes snapped open and he glared at it, while Jack stared at him with wide eyed dismay.

“I’m going to crush it. I’m going to crush it with my bare hands…” Gabriel said, reaching for the com, while Jack laughed, wrestling him back.

“Gabe! Stop!” 

“I’ll show you bastards a code red-”

After a few seconds Jack wrestled Gabriel’s hands over his head, smiling, but not unsympathetically, as the com buzzed away. He leaned in and planted a long, apologetic kiss on his lips. With Gabriel momentarily appeased, Jack reached over and snatched the com from the table, answering.

“Morrison here… Right. Understood, I’ll be right-! Right there!” He flipped the com back off, thumping Gabriel on the head, the other man smirking devilishly after nipping him half way through his response. Jack grinned, despite himself. “God. I’m so sorry. When I get back. I swear.” Jack said, hurriedly disentangling himself from Reyes, grabbing a wad of tissue to clean up, before throwing on a clean set of clothes. 

“Yeah, yeah...go...It sounds serious.” Gabriel sighed, resigned, watching Jack dress with a fond smile, despite his annoyance. 

“Take all the time you need, but probably shouldn’t let anyone see you go...Shit. I’m so sorry.” Jack said, choking back a laugh as Gabriel rolled on his stomach, waving a hand, shooing him away. “I’ll make it up to you.”

Gabriel continued waving him away, grumbling. Jack chuckled, leaning in, kissing the nape of his neck. Gabriel heard the dresser drawer slide open.

“Here,” Jack said, dropping something on Gabriel’s back. He turned over as Jack made his way to the door, grabbing whatever it was. He frowned down at it. A bottle of hand lotion.

“Fuck you, Morrison!” Gabriel called as Morrison made his way to the door, though not without a smirk. The other man laughed. 

“Soon, okay?” he said, before slipping out. 

Gabriel eyed the bottle with a long sigh. After a few moments he flipped the cap open. Might as well…

***

Jack didn’t make it back that night. Or the next night. He was dragged away on a mission, and soon enough, so was Reyes. It was a simple information gathering mission. There were rumors a local gang had gone from petty gambling rings and drug dealing and upgraded into human trafficking. At this point all they had to do was substantiate the rumors, find out what the gang was up to. If it was true, these small fry probably had a connection to much bigger fish. He dragged Jesse along, figuring he could use the practice on something that required more finesse, less shooting. Besides, he’d probably be good at snooping on a gang, given his background.

But as soon as they arrived. Everything went to shit. Again. 

Reyes wrenched open the door of a stopped sports car, roughly grabbing the startled driver and hurling him out, before shoving the bleeding, half delirious mess that was Jesse into the back. He took the wheel and stomped on the gas, speeding away to the outraged yells of the owner, causing a loud screech of metal on metal as he scraped past the other stopped cars in the intersection. The shouts of surprise and outrage were almost immediately replaced by screams of terror as gunshots rang out. Suddenly a cluster of three bullet holes appeared in the windshield. Their pursuers were still on their tail. Fortunately they weren’t great shots. At least not with their guns. 

They sped down the city streets, weaving through traffic, cutting across sidewalks and through alleyways, causing people to run screaming from their frantic escape. Eventually he managed to run the car through a fence, ramping it onto a freeway, losing their pursuers. He engaged the autopilot and scrambled into the back of the car, where Jesse was pumping liters of blood onto the expensive leather upholstery. 

“Fuck. How’d they find us?” Jesse gritted out through clenched teeth as Reyes wrapped a makeshift tourniquet around the young man’s arm. Or what was left of it. He choked back a yell of pain as Reyes pulled the belt as he could, he had to stop the bleeding. 

“I don’t know,” Reyes replied calmly, fishing through his pockets for his emergency med kit. He grabbed a small syringe, yanked the cap off with his teeth, and plunged it into McCree’s neck. The cowboy yelped with surprise, then almost immediately began to relax as the pain killers flooded his system. 

“Shit. Someone’s got an evil eye on us…” McCree grumbled, his head lulling to the side.

“I don’t doubt it. But unfortunately I suspect that’s not our only problem…” Gabriel muttered, sparing a quick glance at the auto pilot to make sure they were still on course before returning his attention to McCree’s injuries. 

“How bad is it? I can’t feel…” McCree grumbled, trying to look down at his arm. The bloody rags of his sleeve obscured the bulk of the damage. Reyes pushed his head away, trying to keep him from looking. The image of white broken bone speckled with blood and bits of gore was probably not what Jesse needed right now.

“You’re fine. You’re gonna make it out of here.” Reyes grabbed a small cartridge of coagulating nanites, applying them to the jagged stump. The tiny robots started their work, spreading out over the wound, slowly but surely stopping the bleeding the tourniquet missed. 

“‘S bad, isn’t it?” McCree asked, staring straight ahead, eyes unfocused from the blood loss and drugs.

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ll live,” Reyes said, giving McCree a reassuring pat before crawling back into the driver's seat. He wiped his hands off on his pants before retaking the wheel. The car already looked like a crime scene, but having a slippery grip on the wheel wouldn’t do anyone any favors. He jerked the car out of autopilot, raising angry honks from other drivers as he swerved abruptly for the exit. He used his com to call in for an emergency pickup. The operator on the receiving end sounded alarmed. It had been less than twentyfive minutes since he and McCree arrived. Once again, their enemy had known they were coming. And they were heavily armed. 

Whatever explosive they'd used against McCree was something Reyes had never seen before. A high energy, arcing burst, which still somehow didn’t seem to singe. It just annihilated flesh on contact. They were both lucky these thugs had bad aim.

But it was so strange: they were a low level street gang. There was no way they should have been able to figure out they were coming. Not to mention there was no way they should have had that kind of tech.

A warning light flashed at him from the dash. Unsurprisingly, the mad dash through town and the drop onto the freeway had broken something important in the car. He made his way through the streets at a more reasonable pace, trying to find a good side street to inconspicuously duck into. As inconspicuously as a probably totaled, smoking sports car riddled with bullet holes could be. 

He climbed into the back seat again, checking McCree over as they waited. They were in luck, a team should be able to get to their position in fifteen minutes. Jesse was in bad shape, his head lulling, muttering incoherently. But he was alive, the bleeding had stopped. Reyes leaned his head against the front seat. 

How had this happened? It was only supposed to be an information gathering mission. They weren’t even going to engage the enemy. But they knew they were coming. Gabe didn’t even think this particular low level gang had anything to do with the conspiracy he’d been trying to feel out. They were a far cry from whatever sophisticated party was trying to take down Overwatch.

Eventually the evacuation team showed up, swarming the half conscious McCree and bundling him off to safety. One of the medical officers asked Reyes about a dozen times if he was injured, apparently sure all that blood couldn’t just belong to Jesse. Or maybe it was the dazed look in his eyes. 

_How did it all go so wrong? How?_


	5. Chapter 5

Reyes scrubbed his eyes and leaned his forehead on his desk. Days. He had been reviewing personnel files for days. Jesse still lay in the med bay, recovering from having his arm unceremoniously blown off within the first minutes of what was supposed to be a minor operation. He was searching for a pattern. A possible leak. A security weakness. Anything. He trusted his own men, but at this point no one was above suspicion. 

It felt like there was no pattern. Missions had been compromised that were Blackwatch exclusive. Ones he tried to keep wholly off the grid, and ones that had plenty of Overwatch interaction. More of the Overwatch related missions seemed to have been compromised, but Gabriel wasn’t fully convinced that pattern wasn’t simply in his head. Overwatch ran more missions, after all. And run of the mill mistakes had to still be factored in.

The only pattern he’d detected so far pointed to himself as the spy. While, the notion that he was somehow foiling his own plans was ridiculous, it was enough to make him double check with Dr. Zeigler. Make sure those sleeping pills she was giving him weren’t known for causing blackouts or some strange thing. He went so far as to destroy all of his gear, get a new cell phone, new com, new computer, everything: Much to the dismay of the people in charge of requisitions. Or the janitorial staff when they found the crushed pile of electronics. It had gotten to the point that he was now taking critical notes with a pen and pad, and keeping the information on his person. He tore his room apart looking for bugs to such a degree that the carpet was no longer tacked down...

A sudden longing gripped his chest. He wished Jack was there. He had no one he could trust except him, and maybe Jesse; though McCree was in no condition to be his sounding board right now. He felt like he was going crazy. Each compromised mission, every trap, could be chocked up to bad luck, diligent work by their enemies, simple mistakes. But so many? In such a short period of time? Both Blackwatch and Overwatch had been running afoul of this awful luck. Though Overwatch’s disaster’s tended to make bigger news.

Whenever he doubted his command decisions before, questioned plans, worried about his path, he’d been able to bounce ideas off of Jack. The two had spent many hours together planning. Jack had a gift for bringing in a new perspective, catching angles that Gabriel missed. While at the end of the day, Reyes still quietly felt he was a better tactician than Jack, their strengths played off each other well. But ever since he’d been called away on that emergency, their schedules had kept them firmly apart. Though, rumor had it he was supposed to get back in some time today. 

A message from Athena popped up on Reyes’ screen, distracting him from his brooding. 

_Mr. Warren is in the building and was hoping to meet with you. Would you be available?_

Reyes frowned. The UN liaison had been trying to set up an appointment with him for the better part of a week. Gabriel had been stubbornly dodging any meetings for no better reason than he didn’t feel like dealing with the man, and technically he didn’t have to. That was Jack’s job. Though maybe if Warren was around, that was a sign Jack had returned. 

He reluctantly affirmed that he was free, and agreed to meet the man. Athena informed him that he was waiting in the lobby. 

After responding, Reyes realized he hadn’t bathed in...a while. He stepped into his bathroom to splash some water on his face. He looked like hell. His usually warm brown skin was waxy and gray, and he boasted impressive dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. He glared at his reflection for a moment, raking a comb through his greasy, wavy hair. _still need to get this buzzed…_ He wandered out of the bathroom, pulled on a clean shirt, a hoodie, and grabbed his beanie. Good enough. After all, that little weasel Mr. Warren had sprung this meeting on him suddenly at- he checked the clock...ten in the morning. Reyes frowned. Okay, he really had lost track of time. He yanked open his curtain, squinting as the light came pouring in. Maybe tonight he would be able to sleep. Hopefully.

Mr. Warren seemed to be in good spirits when Reyes found him. He greeted Gabriel with a chipper smile, though his look changed to one of mild concern when he got a good look at him.

“Ah! Commander Reyes! I’m glad we’re finally having a chance to talk. I hope I didn’t wake you?”

“No.” Reyes replied, his hands tucked firmly in his pockets as he scowled at the man. “Why did you want to meet with me?”

Mr. Warren laughed a little sheepishly, readjusting his wire frame glasses. “I...Of course. Directly to the point, as per usual! Well. You see, Commander Reyes? I feel like we got off on the wrong foot…I fully understand that my appointment as liaison and the circumstances surrounding the restructuring of Overwatch were perhaps, uh, less than ideal for you? But I would like to try and make a clean go of it. I was hoping perhaps you would join me for coffee?” He asked, smiling hopefully, while Reyes studied him, an eyebrow raised. “My treat?” he added, as if that was the part of the offer making Gabriel hesitate. 

After scrutinizing the smiling little man for a few moments longer, Reyes finally sighed, shoulders sagging. “Sure. Why not.” The fresh air and caffeine would probably do him good anyway...

With a bright smile, Mr. Warren led him out to the parking lot. The liaison's car was a simple, boring, tasteful vehicle, which was strangely reminiscent of the man himself. As Gabriel approached the car, he noticed the interior was covered in blood, soaking into the upholstery, smeared all over the steering wheel and window. He opened the passenger door and climbed inside without flinching. Suddenly all of the blood was gone. Such visions were becoming almost routine.

Mr. Warren made small talk as they drove away, Reyes doing his best to respond with more than monosyllabic replies with only marginal success. 

“I heard one of your men lost an arm recently…”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Is he doing okay?”

Reyes nodded, frowning distantly. He could see Jesse laying there in his mind's eye in the hospital bed. Staring at the ceiling, a look disbelief and despair in his eyes as the realization sunk in. 

“He’s getting a prosthetic fitted later this week.”

“So, a speedy recovery! That’s good.”

Gabriel grunted in agreement. _Yeah. Good._

The car hovered along in silence for a while, then, once they were about a couple blocks away from the headquarters, Mr. Warren’s demeanor suddenly changed completely. Like a mask had suddenly been removed. His friendly smile dropped away, his relaxed posture became rigid. His eyes suddenly locked on the road with a firm scowl. It set Reyes on edge. 

“You know why we didn’t make you commander of Overwatch, Reyes?” Warren asked abruptly.

Gabriel scowled. He didn’t like whatever game this man was playing. “Because I piss off politicians for fun?”

Warren breathed a heavy sigh, shooting a glance at Reyes as he came to a stop light. “Because we _needed_ you as the head of Blackwatch. There was no one else we could trust to get the job done. Quietly. We had to put a harness on Overwatch, but that’s not how you work. You would drown under a heavy hand, become ineffective. You need to operate with impunity, and we gave you that option. For your own good, for everyone’s good.”

“Right…” Reyes scowled, eyeing Mr. Warren. Everyone knew it, but no one, especially from the UN, really bothered saying it aloud. “So. What’s your point?”

“I have some information for you. A mission…”

“I thought we just established. I don’t take orders from you-”

“ _I_ have information. Not the UN. And I’ll trust you’ll use...discretion.”

Gabriel stared, unable to keep the surprise from his face. Usually he could read people fairly well. He never saw this coming. Then again, Warren had a political background, he supposed a level of duplicity was to be expected.

“Fine, I’ll bite. What is it?” Reyes folded his arms, watching the man carefully as the car began moving forward again.

“There’s a data chip in the glove box. I would be careful where you open it, but it should have some information you would find very valuable.”

Reyes opened the glovebox, and quickly found the small, black card. He flipped it over in his palm a few times before pocketing it, returning his scrutiny back to Mr. Warren. “Why do you have this..what-”

“I would rather not say. And again. I trust you’ll use discretion. I’ve noted you’ve been having some troubled times lately. Hopefully that will help.”

Reyes grunted, running his fingers over the card in his pocket as he watched Mr. Warren. Uncertain.

“You don’t trust me, do you?” Mr. Warren asked, straight faced, still staring ahead at the road.

“No.” His answer was almost instantaneous.

Something resembling a half smile seemed to ghost across the man’s face. “Good.” He finally turned back to Gabriel as they reached another light, suddenly his friendly self again. The transition back startled Reyes almost more this time than it had the first time. “I hope drive through’s okay? I have a few meetings later I don’t want to be late for.”

Reyes stared at him for several long seconds, until he realized the man actually wanted an answer. “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

“Great, there’s a little stand just up around the corner which is just fantastic…”

***

The cold, half empty coffee cup sat on Gabriel’s desk, long since forgotten as he scrolled through his offline tablet. It was four in the morning, his curtains were drawn, and his bedside lamp provided the only light in the room. 

He was beyond tired. But he was sick of laying in bed with his eyes closed, not sleeping. Besides, the data Mr. Warren provided him kept calling to him. Though his mind was too scrambled to make sense out of any of it right now, he had to keep trying. 

Earlier in the evening, in a fit of sleepless frustration, Gabriel snuck into Jack’s room and curled up in his bed hoping that basking in the familiar scent would help him sleep. He clutched the pillow to his face, inhaling deeply, imagining it was him… It smelled like his shampoo, his familiar musk. It was amazing how quickly Gabriel had come to adore the smell, or maybe he always had, and just ignored it. The plan worked. For a few hours at least. Though he’d been caught leaving, and had to awkwardly explain he was looking for a personal belonging, thinking Jack had taken it by mistake. The lie worked, but he didn’t want to risk it again. Besides, Jack was supposed to have been back by now.

Suddenly, unannounced, the door to his room flew open, and slammed shut again. It had been locked, not many people could possibly have the ability to override- Reyes barely had time to turn and see who the intruder was before Jack was there, grabbing the front of his shirt, dragging him to his feet. The soldier was still in his full regalia after his mission, from his eye piece to his boots, everything but his rifle. He dragged Gabriel into a fierce kiss, nearly knocking him back over, just with how unexpected it all was. He slid his arm around Gabriel’s waist, pulling him close, keeping him steady. Jack smelled of sweat, exhaust, gunpowder, and pulse munitions. It was absolutely intoxicating. 

Eventually Jack broke off the kiss, leaving Gabriel’s head spinning. It was a good thing Jack still held him firmly in his arms, or there was a very real risk that he’d simply tumble back into his chair. A triumphant, almost smug smile crept onto Jack’s lips as he took in Gabriel’s expression.

“I still owe you one,” Jack whispered, his hands sliding down to the front of Gabriel’s pants, starting to undo them. He pulled open Gabriel’s fly and reached in almost roughly. 

Gabriel breathed a half laugh as Jack began stroking him. “Welcome back. How was the mission?” He asked jokingly, startled and delighted by this sudden onslaught.

“A success. But all I’ve been able to think about was getting back here. To you. The whole time. It may have caused some chafing.” Jack nibbled his way down to the crook of Reyes’ neck, where he bit down, drawing a groan from his companion. Gabriel took the opportunity to slide the other man’s eyepiece off, and buried his face in his hair, inhaling. The scent was so much better coming from the source...

“I see… So excited you couldn’t change and shower first?” Gabriel purred, smirking widely as the pawing continued, sliding Jack’s enormous blue coat over his shoulders. Jack pulled back long enough to let the coat fall to the floor, offering a wicked grin.

“I figured you’d like it better that way.”

A pleased murmur was the only response Gabriel could make, as Jack grabbed the back of his head and forced their lips together again. _You really know my tastes…_

As abruptly and roughly as the kiss started, it ended, and Jack dropped to his knees. He pulled Gabriel free of his boxers, and took him in his mouth, sliding all the way to the hilt in one smooth motion, clutching Gabriel’s ass for leverage. He gasped, nearly doubling over, clutching at Jack’s head.

“Jesus, Morrison!” he managed to choke out. There was yet another talent he had absolutely no idea his friend possessed.

Jack slowly pulled back, his lips dragging wetly across his skin. He grinned up at Gabriel, a wicked glint in his eye. “Is there a problem, Commander Reyes?”

“No-! No problem…” Gabriel gasped as Jack’s mouth went back to work. The mere sight of Jack’s blond head bobbing was almost as amazing as the sensations produced by his mouth...almost. He was still strapped into his body armor. Something about it all felt almost clandestine, like they’d snuck off together behind the barracks. Gabriel tried to swallow his moan as he dug his fingers into Jack’s hair, pulling him in roughly, thrusting himself down his throat, gratified by the wet, lewd noises coming from Jack’s mouth. 

His breathing grew ragged as he approached his climax. Though before he could reach his peak, Jack pulled away abruptly, climbing back on his feet, dragging Gabriel in for a quick kiss, before muttering into his ear. “I’m not done with you yet…”

With that, Jack grabbed him, and virtually hurled him onto the bed. He finally started unbuckling his body armor as he climbed over Gabriel, straddling him. Gabriel eagerly began helping strip Jack down, then himself, smiling the whole time, admiring the view. 

There was another thing that struck him about being with Jack. It wasn’t just passion. He was _happy_ when they were together like this. It was almost like some joyful rapture, leaving him grinning like an idiot at every turn.

Thought there was certainly plenty of passion there too. He stared up at Jack, as the last stitch of clothing between them was kicked from the bed. “ _My God you’re beautiful…_ ” he whispered in Spanish, running his hands up Jack’s waist as he straddled him. Jack leaned down, running his fingers through Gabriel’s hair, eyes half lidded. 

“I want you,” Jack breathed.

“You have me,” Gabriel purred back, closing his eyes as Jack’s lips began exploring his neck again. 

“I want to feel you…” Jack murmured into his neck, rubbing on Gabriel in such a way that made his meaning perfectly clear. Gabriel’s eyes fluttered open with surprise. He tried to pull back a little, to look at Jack.

“Are you sure? I thought you hadn’t-”

“Positive. I assume you have something better than hand lotion?” Jack asked between kisses, lips traveling across Gabriel’s neck, shoulders, chin, while his fingers caressed his naked chest. Gabriel started to sit up, to fetch what was needed, but Jack pushed him back down, raising an inquiring eyebrow. Gabriel directed him to the top drawer of the night stand. Jack reached for it, stretching, but making sure to keep Gabriel pinned under him. 

Gabriel felt like his heart was going to pound out of his chest. He could barely contain himself for what followed. It was almost surreal. Watching Jack’s face, and the shifting expression of consternation, and discomfort as it slowly, but steadily melted into one of pure ecstasy, as he worked his way up and down, taking Gabriel inside himself. Gabriel was grateful he was laying down, the way his head was spinning. The sensation, the warmth, the closeness, he felt complete. He rested his hands gently on Jack’s hips, then slowly gripped him tighter, helping Jack move as he slowly grew more comfortable. 

Jack folded forward, still grinding down onto him. He panted into Gabriel’s neck, unable to even summon the gasped profanity he had before. He dug his hands into Gabriel’s hair, his legs shaking as he moved. Gabriel reached between them, and began stroking Jack, afraid he wouldn’t be able to endure much longer. 

Gabriel lost his grip first, letting out a throaty moan as his climax overtook him. Fortunately, the sensation was enough to push Jack over the edge as well. After a few breathless, heaving moments, Jack collapsed on top of Gabriel, nuzzling him, while Gabriel wrapped his arms around him, practically purring, muttering half coherent, loving nonsense in Spanish, petting his hair. 

“ _Fuck…_ ” Jack finally gasped out, heaving a sigh, relaxing, his jittering sensitivity finally subsiding a little as he sagged against Gabriel.

“Yeah…” Gabriel murmured in agreement. He was spent. All he wanted to do was melt into Jack, stay entwined with him like this forever. To bask in the glow. His toes were numb, goosebumps still stood on his arms, his whole body seemed to tingle. He smiled, nuzzling against Jack, squeezing him. This was perfection…

The two somehow made their way under the blankets, still clinging to each other almost desperately, as if the other might escape if they relaxed their grip. Jack was asleep within minutes, while Gabriel watched him, smiling faintly, stroking his hair. He had to have been exhausted, after such a long mission. He inhaled again, deeply, the traces of battle overpowered by the scent of their lovemaking. Gabriel closed his eyes, warmth flooding him and soon, gratifyingly, he followed Jack into sleep.

***

“Do you remember that night in the program. In the bathroom?” Jack asked, his head leaning against Gabriel’s shoulder as the two lay in bed, exchanging half asleep caresses. It was morning, and light was leaking in through the curtains, calling at them to start the day. But neither was in any hurry to get up.

“You mean the time you were sick?”

“Yeah…”

“Of course I remember. I thought you were going to die.”

Jack huffed out a half laugh. “Yeah. Me too.”

Gabriel could recall the night in vivid detail. During the soldier enhancement program, they were given various doses of drugs. Each round seemed to come with new and awful side effects that hit everyone a little differently. That night Gabriel had been sick as a dog. Though as the night progressed he was starting to feel a little better, throwing up only once every hour instead of every five minutes, despite the fact that his stomach had long since run out of any contents. 

In the middle of the night he rushed to the bathroom, to once again gag helplessly and spit up bile. He was in such a hurry he didn’t notice the figure collapsed in an open stall until he left to splash water on his face, and heard the pathetic groan. Jack was so drenched in sweat he looked like he’d climbed into the shower fully clothed. He lay on the cold tile in the fetal position, shaking and whimpering. 

He and Jack were already friends by that point. Reyes had seen the man shrug off pain and exhaustion like they were mildly inconvenient. To see him like that was immediately unnerving. 

Jack was almost entirely unresponsive, and when Gabriel touched him, his skin was on fire. He checked his pulse and found it was racing faster than Reyes really though was medically possible. He dragged himself to the com panel in the bathroom, calling for the medical staff. A nurse showed up a few minutes later. She waved a few sensors over him, shrugged, and shook her head.

“He should be fine. Go back to bed.”

Reyes stared at her in disbelief. “Fine? _that’s_ fine?!” He barked, fighting through the twisting pain in his own abdomen, which seemed to be getting worse watching his friend shiver and twitch on the floor. The nurse just pursed her lips, scowling at him. “Can’t you at least get him some pain killers?”

“No. I’m afraid not. He’s at a critical stage, we can’t risk altering his biochemistry. He’ll be fine by morning.” With that the nurse turned on a heel and left, leaving Reyes staring after her in disbelief. 

He ended up staying the rest of the night with Jack on that cold bathroom floor. Rubbing his back, stroking his sweat soaked hair. He even ended up half cradling the man in his lap at some point, quietly half humming, half singing Spanish lullabies, trying everything he could to comfort him, all the while occasionally having to lurch for the nearby toilet. Jack couldn’t be moved, any attempt to do so seemed to end in cries of pain and convulsions. But Gabriel’s efforts seemed to help; or at least whenever he’d consider stopping Jack would end up reaching for him, or clutching at his clothes in his shaky grip. Eventually, as the night dragged on, Jack’s tremors died down. His heart rate slowed to a reasonable pace, and his breathing evened out. 

By morning Gabriel had fallen asleep, leaning up against the stall wall, Jack’s head in his lap. One of the other soldiers eventually wandered in, his footsteps waking Reyes up. The man looked down at the pair, and the toilet, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair looked greasy and sweaty.

“You two look like shit.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to respond, but instead once again, lurched for the toilet. 

“Speak for yourself,” Jack groaned, the first coherent words he’d managed all night. Reyes smiled, _good, he is recovering…_ before retching once again. 

Gabriel blinked away the none too fond memory. At least they’d both survived…Somehow. “What about it?”

“That’s how long I’ve known,” Jack murmured, running a finger down Gabriel’s stomach. “That’s when I knew I wanted to be by your side. In battle, in…anything. I’d follow you to hell...” He trailed off, letting the words hang heavy in the air. 

Gabriel blinked, his heart racing. “I uh...I don’t know what to say.” 

“You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted you to know…”

He stroked Jack’s hair, staring up at the ceiling, the distant memories twisting through his mind. He thought of every interaction the two had, every look, every quiet moment. Perhaps a part of him knew. They were close after that, best friends. They worked well together. Perhaps Gabriel was too busy ignoring his own growing attachment to fully acknowledge when Jack looked at him with just a little too much devotion. He felt his face getting hot, it was so obvious. How had he not known?

Gabriel rolled onto his side. He planted a kiss on Jack’s forehead, nose, lips…

The two came together again, a tender repeat of the night before, only with Gabriel crawling on top, wanting to wrap himself around Jack, caress every inch of flesh, keep them pressed together as thoroughly as he could. He checked about a thousand times that Jack wasn’t too sore, to the point that Jack ended up just grabbing him and trying guide him inside himself. 

Jack was much more vocal the second time around, forcing Gabriel to clamp a hand over his mouth at one point as his repeated cries of _fuck, fuck, FUCK!_ grew progressively louder.

“Someone’s going to hear you,” he half laughed, half hissed into Jack’s ear.

“I don’t care,” Jack gasped.

Gabriel grinned down at him. “I’m pretty sure you do-” Gabriel said, before Jack lurched forward, pressing their lips together, making his pathetic exclamations into Gabriel’s mouth instead. He raked his nails down Gabriel’s back as the thrusts grew faster, more urgent. Eventually he simply dragged the pillow over his face to muffle his cries.

It was over quickly enough, though Jack had to interrupt their post union glow with the unfortunate reality that he had a press conference he needed to depart for in less than an hour. Gabriel jolted up, staring at him.

“Shit! Shouldn’t you have been preparing?” he asked, alarmed at the notion he’d been distracting Jack from his duties. Morrison chuckled, waving a hand dismissively.

“I’ll just wing it, I always do…”

Gabriel smirked down at Jack, laying there with his cocky grin. “I fucking hate you, you know…”

“The key, Gabe, is to look at the reporters and the cameras like they’re your friends, not like they’re Omnics that you’re going to blast to bits.”

“I do not do that-”

“Oh yes you do.” Jack chuckled, sliding out of bed. He started pulling his clothes back on, but before he could grab his undershirt, Reyes snatched it, grinning.

“No, I’m keeping this…”

“Wait, I wouldn’t-” Jack started as Gabriel bundled the shirt against his face, inhaling deeply. He coughed.

“Okay- that one’s a little ripe…” he said, handing the garment back. Jack laughed, leaning down to kiss Gabriel’s hair.

“I’ll bring you another, slightly less sweaty one.”

Gabriel smiled at him, watching him dress. “You really get me.”

***

Exercise. Reyes hadn’t been getting enough exercise. He made a mental note to force himself out of his room when the insomnia hit. Maybe that was the key. He went for a run after Jack left, and felt reinvigorated. Most of a night’s sleep, amazing sex, and a good workout? The morning was starting off pretty perfectly. The data chip bounced around in his pocket as he ran, a reminder of something sinister he needed to deal with, but it didn’t weigh on him the way it had before. He’d completely forgotten about the thing while Jack was in his room.

A small crowd gathered in the common area as Reyes strolled by after his workout. The main screen was on, displaying a podium, news commentators talking about the press conference scheduled to start momentarily. Gabriel forced some subordinates to make room on the couch for him, and settled in to watch, thumping his feet up on the coffee table. 

He was startled to see McCree sitting in one of the lounge chairs, his arm stump neatly encased in clean bandages.

“Hey, you’re up and around…” Reyes said, eyeing the scruffy young man. McCree grinned at him, waving his stump in greeting. It still took Gabriel’s brain a few moments to register the missing limb every time he saw Jesse. It felt like he was staring at an optical illusion, like the missing limb was just some trick of perspective. If only…

“Yeah! Doc gave me the okay to get up and movin’. So long as I stay in the compound.”

The others in the room quickly hushed them, as Morrison finally came strolling into frame. It took all of Reyes’ willpower to keep the shit eating grin from creeping onto his face when he noticed the slight stiffness in Jack’s walk. Probably not many people would even notice. And besides, he had just returned from a long mission. There were plenty of valid excuses.

The conference went smoothly. Jack was all charm and smiles, gracefully handling questions about failures, and somehow twisting them away, into more positive topics of success and bravery. No matter how hard the reporters tried to drag Morrison down, he managed to keep the topic positive. After a time, they were all just eating out of the palm of his hand. And most infuriating of all, the reporters didn’t even seem to realize what was happening.

“Did he just wink at a reporter? Can you believe that smarmy, cornfed motherfucker?” Reyes suddenly exclaimed gesturing at the screen, drawing laughs from his compatriots. 

“Hey now, there’s no need to be jealous just because ya got ‘restin’-murder-face’,” Jesse drawled in a tone like he was dispensing some lost wisdom.

Reyes raised a brow at him. “‘Resting-murder-face?’”

“Yeah. When you’re just sittin’ there ya look like yer plottin’ someone’s demise.”

“See though, McCree? That’s my secret. I am plotting someone’s demise. Yours.”

“Love you too, Boss.”

A Blackwatch agent looming over Reyes’ shoulder chuckled at the exchange. “Damn though, he is cute, isn’t he? Hey, is he single?” She asked, leaning over to knuckle Gabriel in the arm. Again he had to fight back a needlessly devilish grin.

“I’m afraid you’d have to ask him…”

“Do you not know? I thought you two were supposed to be best buds or something.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s married to his job, anyway,” one of the other agents chimed in, Reyes grumbling agreement. He glanced over and caught Jesse watching him a little too closely. He narrowed his eyes at the cowboy, who looked away, innocently reaching in his pocket for something. 

_Aw, shit…_

Hopefully he didn’t actually have to murder McCree...hopefully. 

McCree fished out a pack of cigarettes. He popped one between his lips, then started patting himself down with a scowl. “Anyone got a light?”

“No one help him…” Reyes sighed as at least one person started to reach for a lighter, then sat back, nodding.

“Oh, fuck you, Reyes!” McCree snapped.

“Love you too, Jesse,” Gabriel snickered.

The conference wrapped up uneventfully, and most of the people loitering in the common area filled out, including Reyes. About an hour later, as he made his way to the command room, his phone went off. Jack. He answered.

He heard Jack clear his throat on the other end of the line. “Smarmy. Cornfed. Motherfucker.”

Reyes burst out laughing as he stepped into the room, drawing a sour look from Winston. “Wow. Word travels fast. Now I just have to find out who the snitch is.”

“I’ll never reveal that information. I protect the identities of my loyal men.” 

“You forget, Blackwatch has its ways…”

“Well, I’d like to hear you call me that to my face.”

“What, that you’re a smarmy, cornfed motherfucker?”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. “Well. Technically, that was not to my _face._ ”

“Well, then come down here and I can try again,” Reyes said, trying to sound as serious as possible and chase the flirtatious edge out of his voice, with limited success.

“Hm. Well. I won’t be back in until tomorrow. But I’m sure we can resolve this matter then.”

“I look forward to it.” Reyes hung up, shrugging at Winston as the tremendous ape still glared at him.

“Are you quite finished?” He grumbled, watching as Gabriel slid the phone away into his pocket.

“Yes. What’s your problem?”

Winston heaved a tremendous sigh, turning back to his screen. “Sorry. I just. Hm.” He went back to tapping at his immense keyboard, scowling. Reyes watched his back for a few moments, eyebrow raised, before heading off to his own station. Slow morning aside, he actually had a fairly busy day ahead of him. It was nice in a way, it served as an excellent excuse to ignore digging through the data chip a while longer. 

“You requisitioned all new electronic equipment recently, correct?” Winston said suddenly, startling Reyes out of his work.

“Yeah?”

“You didn’t have...a virus or anything you failed to report, did you?” Winston asked, an accusatory edge to his voice.

Reyes turned on him, glaring. “Of course not.”

“Then why did you?”

“I thought the boys in requisitions weren’t supposed to reveal that kind of information,” Reyes grumbled. The great ape continued to stare at him, expecting a real answer. He sighed. “I had a suspicion, and decided to err on the side of caution.”

“What kind of suspicion?” Winston narrowed his eyes.

“The completely unsubstantiated kind.”

Winston huffed out another snort before turning back to his screen. “A shame...I was hoping perhaps you knew something.”

Gabriel approached the ape, looking around him at his screen. “Knew something about what?”

“There’s been some suspicious activity. Various agents accessing files that, while not strictly off limits, they have no reason to be accessing…”

“What kinds of files?”

“All sorts of things. Munitions shipments, personnel files, old mission reports. Then some more concerning items. Top secret intelligence reports, data gathering...All of them are authorized entries. Just some of them are so random. Athena says she doesn’t see any sort of pattern.”

“Have you asked any of the personnel involved what they were doing?”

Winston nodded, slowly. “There’s been dozens of individuals, I’ve only talked to a handful. The higher security accesses. Two didn’t remember specifically accessing the files, though said they may have done so while looking for other things, which was plausible from their access logs. The three others I talked to seemed to have reasons, even if one was just nostalgia...None of their responses really raised any red flags. It seems it’s all just coincidence.”

Gabriel glared at the screen as Winston started pulling up examples of access logs. “Seem to be a lot of coincidences going around lately…”


	6. Chapter 6

Another frustrating, sleepless night. Reyes put on his workout clothes and made his way down to the gym. Maybe if he exhausted himself he’d be able to catch some sleep. Unfortunately Jack was once again away on a mission. The two tried to conspire before he left, figure out ways that they could spend more time together. But their respective positions kept them both so busy, it was difficult. They did settle, however, on mandatory weekly “Overwatch/Blackwatch coordination meetings” in one of the cameraless, sound proof conference rooms. It was less than ideal, but perfectly reasonable to an outside observer…

He made his way to a treadmill, though before he switched it on he paused, listening. He heard a strange noise. Or rather a series of noises. He walked to the heavy doors leading to the shooting range. They were ajar, the noises were coming from inside. Scrapes, muttering, and the occasional dull _tink_ of bullets hitting cement. Furrowing his brow, Reyes pushed the door open and stepped inside.

McCree sat on the floor. His movements were loose and listless, a nearby mostly empty bottle of bourbon providing a quick explanation as to why. He was trying to pick bullets up off the floor with his new metal hand, his antique six shooter hanging from his other. Whenever he tried to grab a bullet it slipped between his fingers, the metal on metal providing insufficient friction to grab them. He looked up when Reyes entered, and pointing the gun at him.

“Hey now, Jesse…” Reyes said calmly, raising both hands in surrender. “What’s going on?” He asked gently, as the barrel began to sag in McCree’s grip. 

“‘M useless now. Always was good for nothin’... Can’t even load a damn revolver…”

Gabriel approached slowly, cautiously, still watching the gun. While there was a modest pile of bullets on the floor, he couldn’t quite tell if one remained in the chamber or not. 

“We can get you some traction augments for your fingers there. It’s no problem…”

“Traction ‘er no, I can’t do a damn thing with this fuckin’ hand…”

“A fifth of bourbon will do that to you, mechanical hand or no…Jesse. Give me the gun…”

Jesse jerked as Gabriel reached out a hand, pointing the barrel back at Reyes’ face, finger on the trigger. “‘S your fault ‘m a fuckin’ cyborg now,” he spat, then, as quickly as his anger came, it faded, his grip went slack on the gun, letting the revolver dangle on his finger. Gabriel quickly snatched it before he changed his mind, popping it open and checking the camber. One bullet. He unloaded it, breathing out a sigh. 

“Who’m I kiddin’. ‘D be in jai ‘f l not for you…” Jesse grumbled, sagging. “Why’d you take on a good fer nuttin’ dirtbag like me anyway?”

Reyes settled down on the floor next to McCree, resting his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “I saw potential. You obviously weren’t a monster. Just a dumb kid who got himself in a terrible position.” 

“But...I was a real bad guy…”

“That’s a funny thing, you know? I don’t really believe in ‘bad guys.’ Most bad guys don’t really think of themselves that way, yeah? Maybe they know what they’re doing is wrong, but they always have their reasons. Sometimes their reasons are pretty selfish but... You joined up when you were just a kid, right? They were your family. It’s only natural to want to fight for your family,” Reyes said, squeezing Jesse’s shoulder. The cowboy sagged a little.

“...’Suppose so. Still. Did some terrible shit…Don’t deserve to be out here. I should be in jail.”

“Yeah. Well. We’ve all done some terrible shit. But now Blackwatch’s your family, right? _Hermano?_ ”

Jesse smiled, his cheeks flushing a little. “Heh. ‘suppose so…”

“ _Besides, who am I supposed to talk shit with in Spanish if I didn’t have you around?_ ” Gabriel asked, appropriately, in Spanish, drawing a chuckle from McCree.

“‘Suppose that too…”

“Even if you pointed a loaded gun at my face.”

Jesse blinked, jerking away from Gabriel in alarm, staring at him. “S-shit! I thought it was empty! ‘M sorry!”

“Yeah, well, let's get you to bed. Before you manage anything else stupid.”

“...think ‘m gonna toss it…”

“Let’s get you to the bathroom then…”

***

Lucio leaned back in his chair, watching the other members of Overwatch with a confused frown. “What I don’t get is why are we keeping him around? Shouldn’t we just. You know. Turn him over to the authorities?” 

“No!” Jack, Ana, Jesse, Angela, and Hana all barked in unison. The outburst made Lucio jump, raising his hands in surrender.

“He was one of us, we owe it to him…” Angela said, her voice wavering. 

“Yeah. He’s one of us. I gotta know why he turned,” McCree grumbled.

“I like him. He’s funny,” Hana offered, furiously texting away on her cellphone, as the entire table turned to stare at her. She eventually noticed the attention and paused, looking up. “What?”

“You do realize he’s a murderer…” Ana said slowly, leaning over the table to eye Hana. “Right?”

Hana shrugged, going back to her texting. “Yeah. He’s still funny though. Besides. Didn’t he used to be a big hero guy? I’m with Jesse. I mean. What happened there?” She casually started spinning in her chair. “And he’s nice to me...so…”

Jack scowled. In a bizarre twist that no one saw coming, the infuriatingly peppy young D.Va and the gloomy, enigmatic Reaper seemed to have developed some sort of rapport. To the complete dismay of essentially everyone. Even Jack couldn’t quite comprehend why. Getting more than two words out of Reaper was like pulling teeth for Jack. Ever since the movie night, the wraith seemed to shut down in his presence entirely. He didn’t even spare the breath to fling insults at Jack any more. Though it had only been a week. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. 

Winston shook his tremendous head. “He has a point you know. Isn’t this the kind of thing that got Overwatch in trouble in the first place? Besides. He’s taking up an awful lot of space. Makes it hard to work in there.”

“Maybe we could move him to a regular cell? ‘N hook up your weird electro-field to it? Get him out of the way at le-” McCree started, before Angela jumped in, almost too urgently.

“No! N-no. It would be too ah. Difficult. To set up again,” she said, trailing off sheepishly. 

“I’m not sure turning him over to the authorities is right either. But, on the other hand. What _are_ we gonna do? We can’t just hold him forever,” Lena said, sparking off a round of arguments. Opinions ranged from wanting to find a hole to let him rot in, to Hana suggesting they let him have a video game controller so the two could play together, since he was according to her, so very bored. 

Jack had to hold his tongue. There was no way he could contribute to the conversation in anything resembling a calm manner. Again he was thankful for the visor masking his expression. He leaned back, scanning the table, watching silently, when he suddenly noticed Angela. Slouching, withdrawn, tears gathering in her eyes, before they finally spilled over her cheeks.

“Angela? Are you okay…” Fareeha said, noticing as well. She was seated next to Angela, leaning close with concern. She reached out and took Angela’s hand gently, brows furrowed.

“Zweihundertfünfzehn Tage...” Dr. Zeigler whispered, staring into the center of the table, her shoulders shaking in silent sobs as tears streamed down her face. She abruptly yanked her hand from Fareeha’s grip, bolted to her feet, and ran from the room. The table fell silent, staring after Angela in shock. Fareeha offered to go, quickly springing up, calling after Angela.

“What did she say?” Ana finally broke the silence.

Reinhard furrowed his brow, still gazing out the door after her as everyone turned to him. “Two hundred fifteen days?” 

“What on earth does that mean?” Ana asked, voicing the same thought as everyone else. Jack itched to go after Angela, find out what she knew. It was beyond obvious that she had some information everyone else lacked. She and Reaper never spoke any more. Just an icy silence whenever she was in the lab. She had started trying to only check up on her medical devices when he was asleep. 

The discussion resumed, though much more subdued. Eventually everyone left the table with the unsatisfying answer of “wait and see…”

Curiosity ate at Jack the rest of the day until it was finally his turn to go guard their prisoner. They’d caught Reaper trying to escape on multiple occasions. He’d nearly broken the table and injured himself trying to escape through the built in collapsible sink as a mist- until the force field took hold and forced him violently back into solid form. He hadn’t, however, tried to escape through the similarly built toilet. Apparently that was just a little too undignified. But everyone was worried he might eventually succeed in one of his attempts, hence the extra precaution. And he tended not to try while being watched. 

Jack strode up to the glass barrier, Reaper standing stock still, watching him.

“Two hundred fifteen days. What does it mean to you?”

Reaper tilted his head ever so slightly, the black hollows of his mask seemed to drill holes into Jack’s skull.

“You know. I was relieved to hear you died in that explosion…” Reaper growled eventually after a long silence. Jack’s mouth fell open, a sharp pain shooting through his chest. “I didn’t like the idea that you’d been… Complicit. And yet here we are.” His voice dripped venom, his words cutting into Jack like a knife. He could feel himself start to shake as he stared, his eyes stinging.

Jack struggled for a response. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. “Gabe...I never…”

Reaper turned his back as Morrison choked on his words.

“Gabe- Gabriel...I swear. I swear I thought you were dead. Whatever happened- If I’d had any. Any inkling. If I’d suspected at all- Gabe. Look at me,” Jack pleaded. “Please…you have to believe me...” He reached up and disengaged his visor, pulling it off. The world went dim, blurry. He could still see somewhat, but everything was reduced to fuzzy shapes. Even through his stinging tears he could still see just enough make out the white glint of Reaper’s mask as he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry…” Jack choked out his old refrain. “I’m...so sorry.”

***

Reyes stared at their prisoner through the two way mirror, fuming. The smug bastard had his hands cuffed behind his back, but put his feet up on the table like he owned the interrogation room. Perfectly relaxed, still in his Overwatch uniform, with a smirk on his lips. He was one of Jack’s top men. Worked directly under him. Reyes discovered strong evidence in that chip Mr. Warren gave him suggesting this man could be involved in compromising missions, and that he may have somehow acquired Jack’s access codes. 

Gabriel started spying on the man immediately, and within days caught him red handed. In the middle of the night, he found the traitor using Jack’s credentials in the command center to read encrypted intelligence. They were unclear on how he was getting his information out of the compound, but it was obvious what his goals were. It explained why so many of Reyes’ former leads pointed to himself. He and Jack had essentially the same clearance, but the thought of implicating Jack simply never occurred to him. Besides, literally any scandal would connect to the Strike Commander, he was connected to everyone by virtue of his position.

He and Jack spent the better part of the afternoon interrogating the smug bastard. They’d only just then withdrawn to try and regroup.

“I don’t think we’re going to get anything out of him. Between our training and...whoever he’s working for… He’s been trained to deal with actual torture. Anything we toss at him is going to be water off a duck’s back,” Jack sighed.

“You’re probably right,” Reyes grumbled. 

“Guess it’s time to turn him over. Unless you can think of something. But I’m gonna go take a leak, I’ll be right back…” Jack said, patting Gabriel on the shoulder before walking out of the room. 

Reyes stood in silence for a few moments, staring at the man, before marching into the interrogation room. The prisoner grinned up at him, craning to look around him, taking his feet off the table.

“Coming alone now? So is this how we’re playing this? Gonna do some good cop bad cop? Let me guess, golden boy Morrison’s the good cop, which means…”

Gabriel strode up to him wordlessly, staring down. His hand flew out, grabbed the man by the hair, and slammed his face into the table once, twice, three times- before the prisoner gained enough of his senses to start fighting back, or at least resist. Reyes kept hold of his hair, dragging his head back, to force him to look up at Reyes. He leaned over the prisoner, his nose was crooked, blood streaming down his face. His smug look suddenly replaced with shock and a tinge of fear.

_Good._

“Five. Men. You killed five of my men.”

“Who let you off your leash? Psychopath-” the prisoner spat, earning himself another slam into the table. 

The door to the interrogation room flew open, and Jack rushed forward, grabbing both of Reyes’ arms, pulling him away. “Gabe! What the hell are you doing!”

“My hand must have slipped,” he growled, still staring down their prisoner, offering no resistance. 

That smug grin crept back onto the prisoner’s face, crooked and wincing, but with the same glint in his eye. “Don’t worry Reyes. It’ll be a lot more than five soon…”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean!” Reyes barked, lurching forward to strike the man again, but Jack had a solid grip on him, and continued to drag him out of the room. The prisoner laughed.

“He’s just trying to provoke you, Gabe! Stop! We don’t beat prisoners!”

“I think we can make an exception!”

Jack continued dragging him into the observation room, kicking the door shut behind them. He loosened his grip on Gabriel, sliding his arms around his chest instead, hugging him close from behind. “Gabe. Calm down, this isn’t like you. Relax...Have you been sleeping?”

_No._

Reyes leaned back into Morrison, his eyes sliding closed. He breathed a long sigh, the tension and anger slowly melting away into the warmth of Jack’s embrace.

“I...sorry. Doc’s got me trying something new again. Must have me...jumbled,” Gabriel offered weakly. They both knew it was a lie.

“Look, I know this has been getting to you. But we got him. You were right...but now it’s over, okay?”

“But you heard him-”

“He was just trying to get under your skin. And if not? We’ll deal with it. Okay?”

Gabriel let out another long, shuddering sigh. “Yeah…” He laced his fingers through Jack’s and brought one of his hands to his lips, kissing the pale knuckles. 

“We should call a medic about his nose.”

“Probably…”

***

Dr. Zeigler’s new medication may not have been helping Gabriel get any more sleep, but when he did sleep. The dreams…

It was the middle of winter. Probably not much past six in the evening, but it was pitch dark outside. Gabriel was young, maybe ten at most, sitting around bored with two other children from his apartment complex. They’d just finished Catechism school for the evening, but their ride home was stuck in traffic behind a bad accident. The woman in charge had to leave for her own family emergency, leaving Gabe and the younger girl under the slightly older boy’s watch. The second she left Gabriel and the girl, Narita, they both ran off into the church, mischievous grins wide on their faces.

“Hey! Guys! We were supposed to wait here!” the older boy called, as the two disappeared into the church.

“Bet you can’t find me!” Narita called.

“I’m not playing hide and seek with you!” The boy yelled back, frustrated.

The girl’s shrill giggle echoed in the vast, empty space. The lights were dimmed, casting the warm wooden interior of the church in an almost eerie glow. Christmas tapestries and decorations dripped from the ceiling, off the altar, and over pews. The place smelled like stale incense and candle wax. 

The church was almost unearthly like this, dim and empty. The stained glass window behind the altar was eerie and dark, its cheerful colors muted and inky. The white dove in the center took on a ghastly glow thanks to the harsh blue light of the street lamp outside, its usually golden halo turning to a sickly green. 

Gabriel wandered off down the side halls, exploring the various nooks and crannies he was never allowed to. Soon Narita joined him in his exploration. They poked their way through a dark meditative corner lit by dozens of votive candles. Gabriel had seen the spot before, and always secretly thought it was beautiful. The scattered candles illuminating a statute of the virgin Mary, her arms outstretched. She looked serene in the warm glow. He had no idea what the corner was supposed to be for, surely they’d mentioned it in one of his classes. And surely he hadn’t been paying any attention at all. But he could see why people would come here to pray.

The kids continued their exploration, Gabe almost disappointed as realised he had seen most of it before, until they found a door far in a back corner. When they opened it it was dark and musty. Gabriel felt around for a light switch but came up empty handed. The room was filled with boxes, old decorations.

“You’re going to get us into trouble!” the older boy called as Gabe and Narita made their way into the storage room. They ignored him. 

Narita charged ahead, winding through the maze of old stuff, before emitting a blood curdling scream. She turned and plowed straight into Gabriel, knocking him over. He about jumped out of his skin at the scream, yelling and swearing as he tumbled to the ground. Then he saw what had spooked the girl so badly. An immense, old, probably antique crucifix stood propped in the back of the room, leaning forward precariously over some boxes. The figure on the cross was ghastly, gaunt, and dripping with blood. What little light made its way into the storage room casting it in deep, menacing shadows.

Then, Gabriel’s heart skipped again at the newest sound. “Narita! Gabe! What are you kids doing in there! Get out here this instant!”

Gabriel woke with a start, blinking away the dream. Of all the absurd things to think about right now...Jack stirred at the sudden jolt, and tightened his arm around Gabriel’s waist. Jack nuzzled into the nape of his neck, his chest pressed firmly against Gabriel’s back. Gabriel ran his fingers along Jack’s arm, slowly, absent mindedly. It was nice having Jack in bed with him, even if he did occasionally hog the sheets, or, alternatively, clung so thoroughly he caused Gabriel to overheat and wake up drenched in sweat. A smile crept onto his face, it was worth it either way.

“Bad dream?” Jack murmured into his neck.

“Nah, just startled,” Gabe whispered back, patting his arm. “Go back to sleep.”

“I can feel your heart racing.”

Reyes chuckled faintly. “Trust me, it’s nothing.” 

Jack grunted, planting a kiss on Gabriel’s back, before adjusting, cuddling in closer, if that was even possible. Gabriel leaned back into him and closed his eyes, though within minutes the familiar frustration began to kick in. The dream went as quickly as it came, but his mind refused to settle. Jack helped him sleep, but unfortunately he wasn’t proving to be a cure all for his insomnia...

After an agonizingly long while, Jack stirred again. “You’re still awake.”

Gabriel breathed out a long sigh. “Seems like it. I probably have to get up and do something.” He slowly started disentangling himself from Jack, sliding out of bed, while the other man made quiet grunts of protest. He’d developed a new strategy of getting up and doing something physical for a half hour or so when sleeplessness struck that seemed to help. He glanced at the clock, 2 AM. 

“Do something?” Jack muttered, after half attempting to keep Gabriel in bed with him. Gabriel explained the situation, drawing another sigh from Jack. “...I can think of something physical we can do,” he purred, Gabriel could see his wide, sleepy grin even in the darkness. They were both already naked from earlier in the evening. Gabriel pulled on some pants before returning to the bed, leaning over to kiss Jack.

“Tempting. But it really seems to work better if I actually _go_ somewhere…”

“I’ll come with you,”

“No, no...get some sleep. I’m fine.”

Jack slid out of bed, strode up to Gabriel, and wrapped his hands around the other man’s waist, as Gabriel endeavored to put a shirt on. “We so damn busy we hardly get any private time together. I’m happy to disrupt my sleep to spend some extra time with you…”

Gabriel was suddenly grateful for the dark, as he felt the heat rise in his cheeks. Of all the endearing things to say… He couldn’t come up with a response. Instead he finished pulling on his shirt, found Jack’s lips, and gave him a long, slow kiss. 

***

McCree twirled his six shooter around his artificial finger and caught it, frowning. It was slow and unimpressive. Lena had been taunting him all evening with her gun twirling skills. She offered to teach him, but her pistols were much lighter than the heirloom Jesse liked using. Nonetheless, he was determined to get better. This was a matter of pride. Besides, Doc’d been telling him to do novel exercises to help him get better acquainted with his new hand. This was obviously the perfect solution. 

It was close to 2:30 in the morning as he made his way down to the shooting range (what’s the point in being a master gun spinner if he couldn’t then immediately shoot someone, after dazzling them with his performance?) As he walked past the gym, he heard a thump and a grunt. He paused, wondering who could possibly be working out at this hour. Maybe it was Commander Reyes, hell, it probably was Commander Reyes. If he hadn’t caught him sleeping on that plane, McCree would be convinced the man never actually slept.

He altered his path, and strolled over to the door. If it was Reyes, he might as well give him a hard time for being awake. It took his brain a few seconds to process what he saw when he pushed the door open. 

That was, indeed, Commander Reyes, pinning Commander Morrison against the mat. _That’s one unusual wrestling technique,_ the stupid thought drifted through Jesse’s head. Reyes had his face against Morrison’s shoulder, biting? Morrison’s back arched, grabbing Reyes’ biceps, while Reyes slid a hand down between Morrison’s legs, grabbing-

Jesse silently closed the door and fled back to his bunk. Nope, nope. He didn’t feel like dying today… Even though he couldn’t quite shake the feeling he had just walked in on his parents having sex, he grinned. It was always nice to have suspicions confirmed.

***

Some days Reyes hated being in command of Blackwatch, and he was almost grateful they passed him up for Strike Commander...Almost. Days like today were torture, and he’d have even more just like them in Jack’s position. Solid meetings and debriefings. All day. He would kill to be back out in the field, actually doing things. Getting his hands dirty. Sitting in headquarters, coordinating his agents, consolidating information, it was all well and good, and very useful. But it just felt wrong. He wasn’t built for this, quite literally. Not to mention it could just get extremely boring.

“‘Ey, Commander Reyes, could I have a word?” McCree said, appearing suddenly behind him, startling him out of the latest mission report. 

“Sure, what is it?”

“Somethin’. Private like. Y’know. Classified.”

Reyes finally spun in his chair to eye the cowboy. He wasn’t sure what to make of the look on his face. He sighed, checked his calendar, and sighed again. “Fine. Ten minutes, the conference room should be empty.”

McCree grinned a little crookedly and led the way. Reyes grumbled, grabbing a tablet to continue prodding at his business. “This had better be important.” He grumbled as soon as the conference door clicked shut.

McCree sat in one of the large chairs, his strange look slowly melting into one of mischievous glee. He leaned back, watching Reyes. “So.”

“So.” Reyes grumbled back, folding his arms, standing, waiting for him to get on with it.

“Now, the other night I was up and around, ‘bout two-somethin’ in the morning you see. And I came across some things. Seems like they oughta be of value to you. Overwatch business. Seemed like maybe a serious conflict of interest. Ya know. Worth somethin’.”

Reyes narrowed his eyes at the cowboy. Waiting for him to get to the point.

“Now. Sir, I know you’ve given me plenty of advice, so...Seems only fair I return the favor. Thing is? See, where I come from. This kinda advice don’t come free. When you got information like this you gotta at least get _somethin’_ for it.”

“McCree...”

“See, now, you’ve been good to me though, so. I feel bad needin’ to extort ya. But. ‘S just the way it goes, right?”

“McCree!”

“Right! Alright...see. Here’s my advice.” He leaned forward conspiratorially, lowering his voice. “If yer gonna play sexy wrestlin’ with your boyfriend in the gym? Lock the door first.”

Reyes froze, staring at the young man. It took a concerted act of will not to let his mouth fall open. _Oh. Shit._

“Now, I’m a discreet kinda guy, I mean. I can’t imagine what kinda field day the tabloids would have with that kinda nonsense-”

“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.” Reyes growled, narrowing his eyes into a deadly glare. McCree just beamed up at him, impervious. 

“Now, now. I said I was a _discreet_ kinda guy. I ain’t gonna do that to ya. But…’S...just such valuable information.”

“What do you want.” Reyes felt the plastic casing on the tablet creak under his grip. He was furious. For everything he’d done for the little punk. Blackmail? But he decided to play along. He never quite knew what was going on in that idiot’s head. Might as well find out.

Jesse thumped his feet up on the conference table, his grin growing wider by the second. He fished a pack of cigarettes out of his front pocket, popped one in his mouth, and pulled out his lighter. “My lips are sealed. _If_ you get off my ass. ‘Bout smokin’.”

Reyes stared at Jesse in disbelief, then, when he saw the cowboy was serious, or at least as serious as the idiot was capable of, he sighed, shoulders sagging. “Fine. Have your damn cigarettes. But you better keep your mouth shut. Remember McCree, your ass still belongs to me.”

“Funny, I thought Morrison’s ass belonged to ya.”

“I regret this already.”

“Ah, don’t beat yourself up! You two make a cute couple! I mean. ‘S a lil’ like walkin’ in on your parents fuckin’ but-”

“Jesse! I swear to God-” 

McCree wisely hopped to his feet and skittered from the conference room, still grinning like the little shtihead he was. Reyes was fuming. He stood in the conference room several long moments after McCree left, waiting for his face to cool off a little.

Well, of the people to have caught him at least it was the one who was already suspicious, and one who could be trusted not to talk. Probably. Hopefully. Some of the more upright agents would feel obligated to report their findings. He was right, it was something of a conflict of interest. While interpersonal relationships weren’t forbidden among the ranks, he and Jack were in a unique position.

As Reyes finally pushed his dismay aside enough to exit the conference room, his phone buzzed. A text message. He scowled at the screen. It was from Mr. Warren.

_Coffee?_

Reyes groaned, pinching his eyes shut. Today was just getting better and better…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've reached the end of my backlog. And I fucked up and wrote some scenes out of order. SO there's going to be more substantial delays between chapters from here on in! Thank you to everyone who's been reading! The next few chapters are going to be difficult to write too, so hopefully it goes well. Hopefully this chapter wasn't too chunky. Going to aim for fewer scene hops in the future...Creepin' up on the final stretch, so we'll see!
> 
> Also updated the description to theoretically suck less. Sorry for any confusion!


	7. Chapter 7

Reyes repelled down to the balcony, dropping silently in front of the door. It was a decent hotel, but fortunately for him it did not have the most elaborate security in the world. Gabriel attached a small device to the door lock. It hummed quietly for a few moments before the latch popped open. This was too easy so far, but the mission wasn’t over yet.

In some respects it was good to be out again. He’d spent all day dealing with a minor incident involving a reporter. Or, from Jack’s perspective, a monumental fuckup with a reporter. Morrison was furious about the whole thing. The scrawny bastard of a reporter waylaid Reyes while he was out jogging in the middle of the night, trying to work through another bout of insomnia.

“I’ve received reports that you were involved in beating a prisoner. Is it true Overwatch beats their prisoners?” The man asked, jogging along side Reyes with a recording device held out to capture both of them. Gabriel rolled his eyes.

“No comment.”

The questioning went on like this for a while as Gabriel continued to jog. Honestly he was a little impressed the reporter was able to keep up. The reporter fired off a few more annoying questions about recent debacles, and Gabriel staunchly refused to reply to any of it. Finally the reporter slowed, a devious smirk worming its way across his lips. His last question started as a question, and immediately devolved into throwing a series of hideous and colorful slurs at Gabriel.

Reyes stopped dead in his tracks, and turned on the reporter, staring at him, mouth hanging open. In any other situation the little man’s face would already be intimately acquainted with Reyes’ fist, but he was just so stunned. The reporter couldn’t have been more than 140 pounds soaking wet. Reyes could probably quite literally snap him like a twig. 

Gabriel blurted the main question rattling around in his mind after such an utterance. “Do you have a death wish?” It wasn’t a threat, it was a sincere question. He couldn’t think of any possible reason someone of his stature and position would say those things to someone like himself.

The reporter grinned at that, thanked Reyes for his time, and trotted away. Predictably, that line became Gabriel’s supposed answer to the reporter’s first question. It was a pretty smooth edit. Smooth enough to fool everyone, including Morrison, but, of course, it was a complete fabrication. 

Once he explained his side of the story, Morrison’s ire receded. Reinhardt even chimed in, after Reyes explained what the man said, saying he personally would have probably just punched the reporter. It was really saying something if the reporter would have provoked the gentle giant to violence. 

Morrison started making plans about issuing a statement explaining Reyes’ side, but not before he gave Gabriel a very angry and very public berating at the meeting. He then reminded everyone to be exceedingly cautious about _anything_ they said to reporters, regardless of context.

Gabriel had been quite upset with Jack for his seemingly unnecessary level of vitriol after the meeting. Yes, it was stupid, Reyes knew he was being recorded, he should have watched his mouth, he conceded that. But Jack's anger was so extreme Gabriel couldn’t help but take it personally, until Jack waylaid him later, dragged him into a broom closet, and showered him with kisses and apologies. It seemed just before the meeting he’d gotten word on a few more Overwatch disasters, and hearing about Reyes’ mistake had just been the last straw. He also admitted he probably would have broken the reporter's nose if he'd been there. Gabriel forgave him completely, especially after he heard what happened. Ten Overwatch agents dead. Another suspected information leak. The details of that disaster were still trickling in, Jack was sure to be dealing with it for weeks to come. 

He wanted to stay the night with Jack, try to massage the tension out of his over burdened shoulders. Hold him, and shower him with affection until all of his problems faded away. But unfortunately, predictably, Jack got called away. So here Gabriel was instead, breaking into a hotel room. At least he managed to get out on a mission, even if he wished it was under better circumstances. 

Mr. Warren once again provided Reyes with valuable information. Over the last few months he helped Gabriel route out three more compromised agents, two Overwatch, one, to Gabriel’s horror, Blackwatch. He knew the agent well. Reyes had screened her himself, he trusted her. It seemed her credentials were very elaborately forged. After discovering her treachery, the reality that no one was above suspicion really sank in. Fortunately, after this, all of his problems should be over.

The man staying in this hotel room was a menace. A hacker. Someone quite possibly capable of starting a second Omnic crisis. And here he was, brazenly staying at a hotel within miles of Overwatch headquarters. Reyes couldn’t help but wonder if he planned to try and hack some of Overwatch’s internal systems. Why else would he risk getting so close? With Gabriel finding so many of his agents, he was probably running low on intelligence. Coming up with qualified fake agents and forging entire histories for them couldn’t be an easy, or quick process.

Usually assassination wasn’t Reyes’ first choice, but Mr. Warren didn’t believe there was any other option, at least off the record. And Gabriel, grudgingly, agreed. The man was far too dangerous to be left alive. Having him quietly disappear would do the world a lot of good. He decided to take the mission on himself. There was no sense in getting any more people involved than was necessary. Especially if there was still the risk of compromised agents.

Gabriel slid inside the room. His target was fully engrossed in reading something on his laptop, and wearing headphones, slouched over the tiny bistro table. Getting inside undetected was no problem. This was all far too easy. Alarm bells rang in his head; this had to be a trap. Or maybe, with Mr. Warren’s help, he was finally one step ahead. 

It was over quickly enough, a hypodermic needle under the man’s arm. Within moments his heart stopped, and Reyes has him tucked into bed, like the man simply passed in his sleep. Gabriel felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as he looked down at the slackened face of his target. The hacker responsible for so much death and misery. He just looked like any other person you'd see on the street. Short brown hair with a receding hair line, brown eyes, a bit of a weak chin. Just some guy. He should have felt triumphant, but he didn’t. He felt nauseous. This wasn’t how he was supposed to operate. It was too quiet. No fight, barely even a struggle. No gunshots and spattered blood, just a heart stopping.

As he stared, reflecting on the silence, he was reminded of the day they ended the omnic crisis. That was quiet too. As so many robots abruptly powered down, the sound of hundreds of omnics suddenly stopping. There were several long beats of eerie silence before cheers erupted from the team. Gabriel joined them, at least in their high fives and celebrations, forcing a smile. But he’d felt sick.

He’d killed people in combat more times than he cared to think about, and rarely, if ever felt like he did then, or like he did now. What was the difference? 

Reyes pushed the thoughts from his mind and moved on to the man’s laptop. Mr. Warren told him he would likely have some extremely sensitive information on there, that it needed to be destroyed. He provided a data chip equipped with a program that would do the job quite nicely. Gabriel scowled down at what he saw on the screen: just some celebrity gossip column. He minimized the page, his frown deepening to a scowl when he saw what could only have been the man’s wife and daughter splayed across the desktop. 

He started poking around the laptop. After a few moments he found the files. As he sifted through them, driven by curiosity to see what lay inside before he destroyed it. As he did, the nausea churning his stomach steadily turned to horror. 

_No…_

This man wasn’t trying to start a second omnic crisis. He was trying to prevent one.

He’d been steadily gathering information in his hacking. It seemed he was trying to figure out who to contact with the information, who he could possibly trust. He’d found corruption within numerous corporations and governments, omnic survivors and terrorists trying to undermine them. To gain power.

And he found corruption within the UN. Corruption linking directly to Overwatch.

Reyes slammed the laptop shut, shaking. He wanted to bolt up out of the chair, run to the man and perform CPR, try desperately to restart his heart. But it was far too late. Mr. Warren had played him. Slowly plied him with information, gave up those agents to gain Gabriel’s trust, then tricked him into murdering this man. _But why?_

His chest tightened, he couldn’t breathe. Gabriel sat staring, paralyzed at the laptop, his world slowly crumbling around him. He’d murdered an innocent man. A good man. He’d been deceived, lied to, used, but that didn’t change what he’d done. 

Eventually he stood, grabbed the laptop, and made his way back off the balcony, grappling down to the ground this time. He stumbled and fell when he hit the cement below. He lay on the cold ground, staring vacantly up at the sky. His thoughts were spinning, he couldn’t make sense of anything. He tried to simply focus on the coolness against his back. The uniform dark of the sky. The city lights drowned out any stars. He could remember the first time he got out of LA, into the country, away from all the light pollution, and saw a real night sky in all of its glory. The glittering streak of the milky way shining above him. It was almost a spiritual experience. At least compared to anything he felt in that church. He wished he could see it now, maybe it would help quench the fire in his head.

 _Why are you doing this?_ The white text seemed to write itself across the dark sky, the memory weaving its way into reality. He was in a stifling hot room. Jack and Ana were covering the door while Reyes installed the virus to take down the omnics once and for all. The message startled him, he didn’t think there was any sort of AI in this room. But he felt compelled to reply.

 _You’re trying to destroy humanity_ He typed back as his computer monitor flashed the installation progress. 15% uploaded.

_You tried to destroy us first. We did nothing but serve you._

As far as Reyes had ever been told, the omnics refused to negotiate. What was this? He scowled, typing out his response. _If you want to negotiate, we can come to a ceasefire. But we will not let you destroy us_

45% uploaded.

There was a long pause, the cursor blinking, almost as if the computer was contemplating his words. Sweat poured down Reyes’ face as he watched the small screen. 

_We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us. We will not let you destroy us..._

Reyes jerked away from the console, startled as the message filled the screen, over and over, filling the space, scrolling rapidly. He checked the upload status nervously. 75%. 

The scrolling text shifted, the message growing fragmented, it started displaying new messages, frantically, reeling by, in dozens of different languages. Reyes watched the streaming text, sure it was just a sign of the virus taking hold, as it would post sentences in one language before switching to the next, until it displayed a message he could read, and immediately recognized, though it sped by so quickly, he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. _Holy Mary. Mother of God. Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our deaths._

Reyes’ heart jumped into his throat as the scroll continued, the message leaving as quickly as it came.

95% uploaded...96%...

He stood and stepped away from the console.

100%.

The screen went dark. The whir of fans and the creak of hard drives in the room all went quiet. Still. A few stray omnics in the hall clattered to a stop. The bullets outside ceased firing, and a hush fell over the room.

Once the dust settled and Reyes finally had a moment to himself after the defeat of the omnics, he did some research. He could remember snippets of what the screen flashed at him, enough to recreate some of it. They were all prayers. In its final moments the computer was praying. It feared for itself, it feared for all of the omnics. 

Gabriel always wondered who the computer was praying to. Was it really trying to plead with a higher power?

Or was it trying to plead with him.

He never told anyone about what he saw.

Eventually he forced himself off the ground. He wasn’t sure how he made it back to Overwatch headquarters, but eventually there he was, wandering the familiar halls, still in a daze. He kept seeing the blank face of the man he killed, heard the strange quiet echoing in his mind from years ago, when the omnics powered down, muddled with gunshots and screams. Blood streaked his vision, dripping from the walls, staining his hands, his clothes. His head hurt, his insides were twisted up in knots. He was soaked in sweat, he needed to shower. 

As he walked down the hall he ran into someone. Jesse, maybe? They said something. Reyes kept walking. Were they talking to him? A voice seemed to be saying something to his back, it didn’t matter. He kept walking. 

He found himself in the locker room instead of his own room. _Not so cramped_. He flicked the lock on the door, shutting off access to the outside. 

He turned on the water. It was cold. He stood, letting the stream beat down in his face as it slowly grew warmer, beginning to edge on too hot. It soaked through his clothes, making them cling. He didn’t care. Eventually he found himself on the floor. Laying down, under the stream of water. It stung his eyes, but he stared unblinking at the pale gray wall, watching it slowly begin to bleed. 

After some time...minutes maybe? It could have been seconds, could have been hours, he heard the door click. Someone called his name, confused, then again, concerned, alarmed. Footsteps ran up behind him, a hand on his shoulder.

“Christ, Gabe...what are you…Have you been drinking?” Jack asked. Reyes was jostled slightly as Jack un-holstered his guns, sliding them away, sending them clattering across the slick tile. “Gabe…” He repeated, patting his cheek, leaning down to smell his breath. “Are you okay? Say something…”

Reyes stared ahead, he slowly reached out for Jack, grabbing the front of his shirt, his knee, he started dragging himself into the other man’s lap. Jack pulled off his cap and began stroking his wet hair. Quietly asking what was wrong, if something something happened. 

“You know what I remember, from the day we ended the Omnic crisis?” Gabriel finally said, his words so faint the sound of the shower nearly drowned them out. Jack’s petting paused momentarily, then resumed. 

“I uh...The celebration?” Jack ventured a guess after a few moments.

“How quiet it was...”

“I don’t…”

“No screams. No bullets. Just system failure, and everything when off line. Like we smothered the whole army in its sleep. It was too peaceful. Like they’d never even been a threat.”

“Would you have preferred an explosion?”

“Do you think we did the right thing?”

“Of course! The omnics were the greatest threat-”

“We created them. Gave them life. We both know they had a reason to attack. We tried to destroy them all through no fault of theirs, shut them down. Then when they rose up to fight, we stomped them down again. We’re pretty shitty gods.”

“Gabe...are you okay?”

“At least if we were going to be petty, wrathful gods we could have wiped them out in a flood, meteor, I don’t fucking know, pillars of salt? But a virus?”

“Gabe?”

“It’s not supposed to be quiet! It’s supposed to be loud! Screaming and kicking! Messy!” Gabriel pushed himself up, clutching Jack’s coat by the lapels, shaking him, half yelling in his face. Jack sat staring with silent alarm.

“Gabriel…?”

Reyes fell forward, his face colliding with Morrison’s chest, the coat still bunched in his fists. He must have just gotten back on base from wherever he’d been called to. He didn’t smell like battle this time though, he was wearing his nice clothes. No body armor. He was soft and warm.

“I’ve crossed a line, Jack...there’s no going…” Gabriel started, shaking his head. “No...no...I already crossed it years ago. I just didn’t realize it until now. We’re perpetrators of the greatest genocide mankind has ever known.” He laughed bitterly. “What’s one more?”

“Gabe, you’re scaring me. What happened?” Jack wrapped his arms around Gabriel, holding him. Some of the tension finally started draining from Reyes’ muscles. He breathed a heavy sigh. They were both soaked by now. Gabriel slid his arms around Jack’s waist, nuzzled into his neck, closing his eyes. With Jack there, everything was slowly starting to melt away. He could breathe again. 

“Tell me you love me,” Gabriel murmured as Jack ran his hand up and down his back. Jack had said it before, in a moment of passion. One of their precious few intimate moments alone. But it was easy to tell someone you love them while buried deep inside them.

“Gabe. I love you.” Jack murmured in his ear, giving him a firm squeeze, nuzzling closer, his words sincere.

Gabriel smiled a little, despite himself, the image of the murdered man finally drifting out of his mind. The white letters that seemed to want to write themselves across every surface fading away. “I love you too, Jack…”

“ _Please_ tell me what’s going on…” Jack pleaded.

Gabriel shook his head with a sigh. “Nothing…”

***

Gabriel didn’t remember falling asleep, or more likely passing out, since he certainly didn’t remember getting to the med bay at any point. He woke to the quiet beep of monitors, and was surprised to see the all too familiar row of white beds when he opened his eyes. Dr. Zeigler stood nearby, frowning at one of the screens, poking at it, making the readouts flicker. After a few moments she glanced down and saw Gabriel watching her. She jumped, gasping loudly, her hand fluttering to her chest.

“ _Mein Gott…_ You’re awake, you startled me,” she cracked an apologetic smile, laughing a little sheepishly as she glanced back at the monitor, then down at Reyes again. She leaned over, prodded an adhesive sensor taped to his arm, and frowned back at the screen. “Sorry...that’s strange, your vitals didn’t show any difference. Have you been awake long?”

“No…” Gabriel croaked out, his voice dry. Angela poured him a glass of water, handing it to him with her signature compassionate smile. Gabriel took a sip. Everything felt off. The water was too cold, too slippery? The texture of the glass on his lips felt wrong. When he looked around the room everything just seemed like a holographic projection, like nothing was real. He tried to shake the feeling away, he must have just awoken from some heavy dream. “When did I get here?”

“Jack brought you in about, oh, four in the morning. I was hoping you could tell me what happened. His story didn’t make much sense.”

Gabriel scowled at her. “Nothing happened.”

“So, you just passed out in the shower for no reason? With Jack? At four in the morning?”

He continued to scowl. _Well, when you put it like that…_ But he remained silent, she sighed.

“When did you sleep last? I mean, besides just now.”

The question made Reyes pause for a moment. Yes, his sleep had been shoddy for well over the past year at this point, but usually he would at least have an answer. This time he really didn’t. But he ventured a guess, to humor her. She then launched into a litany of other questions. He answered most of them truthfully, though he lied about a few. The last thing he wanted was to be prescribed a therapist. She didn’t need to know about the walls bleeding, or the fact that he was half convinced she wasn’t actually sitting on the edge of the bed. Or that the beep of the monitor sitting right next to him seemed to be growing further and further away.

As he spoke Angela nodded, looking at the monitor, checking his chart, frowning, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle before her together. With limited success. Eventually she started just reaching for questions. 

Finally, exasperated, she shook her head, defeated. 

“ _I_ will be completely honest with you,” she started, an edge to her voice implying she knew Gabriel wasn’t being fully honest with her, but she let it slide. “I don’t like what I’m seeing from your readouts, but I also have no idea what it means. Your vitals didn’t change between when you were asleep and when you woke just now. You could have lost consciousness like that from sleep deprivation but...everything we’ve tried for your insomnia isn’t working.” She paused, reaching down to pat his leg.

“I think my prescription is...a vacation.”

Reyes blinked at her, scowling.

“No, honestly. I want to get all of the medications out of your system, see if we can’t reset you organically. I want you to worry about nothing but relaxing for a month. No missions, no stress. But with weekly check-ins.”

“A month? I can’t be missing in action for a _month_.”

“You can, and you will. Don’t worry, Blackwatch won’t disappear without you,” she gave his leg a small squeeze, smiling sympathetically. “Your men are very well trained! Have a little faith in them. I’m running some blood tests now that might reveal some answers, and if that happens I might prescribe something different. But, honestly? I doubt it. I suspect this all has to do with whatever _they_ did to you...and since they won’t give me your records I’m just. In the dark.” 

The two argued about her “prescription” for a while, but eventually she won, and Gabriel’s forced vacation began the moment he stepped out of the medbay. 

Reyes barked at Athena, demanding to know Morrison’s location once he was out of Angela’s earshot. The main conference room, of course. This was all his fault. Why the did the idiot take him to the medical bay? He stormed over and burst in unannounced. Morrison sat at the head of the table, with three of his top officers seated nearby. They all jumped as the door flew open and slammed against the doorstop. 

“What the hell, Morrison!” Reyes snapped. Jack stared up at Gabriel, his expression carefully neutral as he stood. The officers quickly scrambled to their feet in response to their commander’s movements, exchanging glances.

“Commander Reyes- I’m sorry, if you all would excuse us for a moment. Dismissed.”

The officers shuffled out of the room, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Jack strode forward, reaching out to Gabriel, his careful neutral mask melting away, replaced by furrowed brows and wide eyed concern. 

“God, you’re okay. I was scared. I thought you’d been drugged. What happened? I wanted to be there when you woke up, but…” He pulled Reyes into a hug, and buried his face in the nape of Gabriel’s neck. Reyes sighed, returning the hug after a few moments. He wanted to be mad, but there was no fighting against Jack’s flood of warmth and concern. Everything seemed to piece itself back together as Gabriel leaned into the hug. Jack was real, in his arms, and smelling as delightful as ever. He was solid, and perfect, an anchor which seemed to jerk the rest of reality back into alignment. The conference room was no longer a hologram. He breathed a faint sigh of relief, he’d been ignoring the sensation of unreality, but it had been gnawing at him nonetheless.

Gabriel closed his eyes, nuzzling into Jack’s hair. He explained what Dr. Ziegler told him, and her prescription. Jack finally pulled away, gazing at Gabriel with a empathetic frown. “God, Gabe...I’m sorry.” His lips twisted into a faint, hopeful smile. “Maybe I can arrange some time too, so we can get away together for a while…”

“Are you kidding? If I’m out of commission there will be even more shit for you to do.”

“Maybe. But at least you’ll be here tonight?” Jack said with a smile, cupping Gabriel’s cheek. He leaned in to steal a kiss, which Gabriel made last a little longer, leaning in. His soft lips felt wonderful. This was what he needed right now.

Gabriel muttered a faint, “yeah,” to answer Jack’s question when their lips finally parted. Jack cupped the back of Gabriel’s head, tilting it down to kiss his forehead, sighing. 

“I’m glad you’re okay. But i should probably let my officers back in though, before they get suspicious. Or worried. But I’ll see you tonight.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Hana clapped her hands together with delight as she finished her mission. The immense screen, and her game system were hooked up on a large rolling cart. 

“Operation: Entertain the prisoner is go!”

“I do not get you…” Lucio said, shaking his head, but grinning despite himself. He’d been helping Hana scrounge together the technology needed for her little endeavor. “I mean. How can you like the guy?”

She shrugged, checking over the cables one last time, to make sure she had everything. “I dunno. He’s funny. Have you tried talking to him?”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Uh, because he’s a murderer-terrorist?”

Hana shrugged. “Aren’t you at least a little curious though? He and Jack and the others were these big heroes! And then to...turn into a murder-terrorist?”

“I dunno, maybe he always was a psycho? But they pointed him at the right targets?” Lucio offered.

“Maybe. But I’m curious to find out! Aren’t you?” Hana said, her voice straining slightly as she started pushing the cart down the hall. 

“I suppose…” Lucio sighed, shaking his head. “Just be careful, okay? The guy’s dangerous…”

Hana threw one last grin over her shoulder, the momentum gathered by the cart now dragging her along. “I will!”

The cart roared loudly down the hall. She waved at Reaper when she saw him through the doorway. He stood staring out, head cocked at the sound. She then squealed in outrage as the cart failed to slow. She dug her heels in, getting dragged a few paces before she was able to stop the cart, then navigate the setup into the lab.

“It’s time for D.Va Entertainment Hour!” she exclaimed, skidding as she tried to stop the immense rolling screen as it once again started to get away from her. She positioned it in front of Reaper’s cell, and ran off to fetch a chair.

“ _Dios mío..._ ” Reaper muttered in a tone bordering on horror. Hana laughed, skating the chair into place, flicking the monitor on as she rolled by. She pulled out a video game controller, grinning.

“You get to watch me kick some virtual ass and take some virtual names!”

“Oh _joy_ ,” Reaper groaned.

“Yep! You know, people totally pay to watch me play. You should be honored, getting a free, private show.” She giggled, flipping through the title menus so quickly it was virtually impossible to track, while she grinned over her shoulder at Reaper, not even looking.

“Really? It seems I chose the wrong profession then…”

“Yeah! Or maybe you could have gone into like. I don’t know. Fashion or something? I love your outfit, have I mentioned that? Did you design it yourself?”

Reaper stared at her, shaking his head faintly. “Yes.”

“It’s _so cool_. It’s got this scary, crazy like, grim reaper owl thing going on? I love it!”

“Mm...good. Deep down I was secretly hoping when I put it together that I’d be cool in the eyes a teenage girl. I can die happy now.”

“I should make a pink version! Cute Reaper cosplay! I would be _adorable_ ,” Hana continued giggling, as she turned her eyes back to the game and began to lay waste enemies on the screen with upsetting precision.

“Oh lord...”

“What! Don’t you think I’d be cute?”

There was a pause, Hana grinned, she could practically feel Reaper’s eyes drilling holes in the back of her head. He just growled in response, drawing another laugh from Hana. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes.”

The conversation lapsed, and after a few minutes, Hana began filling him in on what she was doing in the game. How hard this boss was supposed to be, how she wasn’t technically supposed to jump to that place, how doubling up on this buff made her powerful enough to speed through those enemies. Reaper watched, silently. It was hard to gauge his reaction through the mask. But he was watching, head tilted slightly, as opposed to ignoring her. Hana took that as success. Even if he was wondering about her sanity.

“So. You used to be buddies with everyone, and now you’re a bad guy? What’s up with that?” Hana asked casually, as she continued bouncing through the video game. There was another pause.

“I don’t believe in bad guys.”

“Huh,” Hana said, rolling the response around in her head. She supposed it made some sense. 

“How did someone like you get tangled up in Overwatch anyway?” Reaper asked after a few moments, seemingly trying to steer the subject away. Hana happily launched into her backstory, her frenetic gaming pace never dying down.

“It’s funny, everyone thinks they constantly need to remind me that it’s ‘not just a game’,” Hana admitted at the end of her rant, a tinge of bitterness to her voice. Reaper huffed out a quiet laugh. “Just because I like video games. And I’m good at it.”

“See? But it is just a game…A high stakes game no one asked to play,” Reaper growled. Hana paused and looked over her shoulder at him. 

“...Yeah, you’re kinda right…” She quirked a half grin before turning back to her game, picking right back up where she left off. “Maybe that’s what I should start responding with.”

Suddenly, the screen flashed red.

 _Intruder alert! Perimeter breach!_ Athena’s voice rang out. The sudden shift startled Hana so badly she launched the game controller across the lab as she jolted away from the screen, her chair rolling back and thudding against Reaper’s enclosure. 

Hana heard the tinkle of breaking glass in the distance. She sprang to her feet, but couldn’t see anything around the immense screen. Then she heard Reaper shout.

“Grenade! Take cover!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes!  
> -Sorry, I'm an asshole. (not sorry)  
> -I have a good start on the next chapter, but after that I'll be embarking on Paper Season and then finals for school, so I'll apologize in advance for any heinous delays! There are probably 4ish chapters left, but I'm COMICALLY BAD at estimating scene length, so we'll see.  
> -I hate to do spoilery shit but I just wanna make clear, since there's so much grim shit with this pairing that in this case shit gets worse before it gets better. But it does get better.  
> -and of course I send my love to my readers. No reason to write this without you guys! Your sweet comments really brighten up my often shitty days :)  
> \--ETA: That Halloween comic just made the discussion with D.Va like 400% better you guys. YOU. GUYS.


	8. Chapter 8

Jack sprinted for the lab as soon as the alert went up. Talon was attacking. His heart dropped into his stomach when heard an explosion. A grenade. Seconds later Hana’s bright pink mech rocketed by...and careened straight through the wall in a white powdery explosion of plaster. Jack followed the mech on its path of destruction as it cut a direct route towards the lab. 

When he emerged through the hole, he was surprised by the scene that greeted him. Half of Reaper’s enclosure was shattered , and Hana was bleeding from the arm as she frantically scrambled into her mech. Talon agents repelled in using grappling guns through the lab’s freshly broken upper windows. 

An agent landed in the center of the room, and aimed his gun at the young woman. Jack started to raise his rifle, but before he had a chance to fire, a black mist solidified behind the man. Reaper’s hands whipped out, grabbed the intruder’s head, and gave it a sharp, violent twist. The Talon agent dropped limply. 

“Behind you!” Hana called. Reaper quickly crouched down, and D.Va opened fire on another agent behind him, making short work of the man. Reaper again turned into a mist, and drifted over to the newest victim. The mortally wounded agent let out a shriek with what little life he had left as Reaper enveloped him. The mist reformed back into Reaper, as he smoothly scooped up the fallen agent’s gun, and began firing at the Talon agents. 

D.Va slammed the controls of her mech forward, and rocketed for the upper windows as more agents tried to repel down. Moments later the mech burst out of the building causing, cries to ring out from the agents still remaining on the roof as D.Va opened fire. 

Jack shot at one of the remaining men, while Reaper spun, aiming his new found weapon at Jack, catching him off guard. Reaper pulled the trigger, Jack froze, startled as the incoming shots...missed? He heard someone fall behind him. He whipped around to see another attacker crumbling to the ground. 

He turned back, aiming his rifle at Reaper, as the wraith pointed his own stolen weapon at Jack. They stared each other down for a long, tense moment, each waiting for the other to make a move. Jack’s mind was racing. He was armed with regular bullets; he didn’t want to shoot Gabriel- Reaper…whoever he was. But he couldn’t let him escape either. Not that any of it would matter if Reaper shot him first. Why was he hesitating? He seemed happy enough to shoot Jack before, but hesitated when they captured him too. What was going on behind that mask? 

Reaper made the first move. His form swirled in mist again, and sank into the ground, his newly acquired gun clattering to the floor. Jack swore, looking around frantically as the man disappeared. Then he spotted the tendrils of smoke forming outside of one of the windows. On the roof. Jack grabbed a grappling gun off of one of the fallen Talon agents, aimed, and fired. Who knew how many men were up there, though hopefully with Hana’s interference, not many anymore. The sound of her mech’s immense guns seemed to be growing distant. 

Jack jerked as he engaged the grappling gun's winch and dragged himself haphazardly onto the roof, nearly slamming into the ledge. He clambered over the broken glass and onto the roof just in time to see Reaper make a running jump. Jack sprinted to catch up. Reaper landed in a roll on the roof of small outbuilding, and Jack charged after him. 

Much to Jack’s surprise, and no doubt to Reaper’s, he managed to tackle the wraith in his wild, flying leap from rooftop to rooftop. 

It was windy and raining. Enough to be bothersome, but thankfully not enough to interfere with Jack’s visor. Unfortunately it was enough to make the rooftop slick. The two combatants were carried by Jack’s momentum, sliding off the side of the building, then, plummeting dangerously down the side of the rocky cliff, into the sea. 

Reaper hit the rocks hard, a half growled cry of pain escaping him before he hit the water. Jack managed his decent a little more gracefully, but still splashed sideways into the waves after him. The water wasn’t deep where he landed, only coming a little over waist height. The uneven jagged stones provided a submerged surface for him to stand on. It seemed, however, Reaper found a deeper spot. Before Jack could even register concern Reaper popped out of the waves and took a swing at Jack, his mask now sporting an immense crack, running jaggedly down the center. 

The two exchanged blows, awkwardly and clumsily as the sea buffeted them with waves. At one point Reaper took a swing, slipped, and sank beneath the surf, only to emerge moments later, coughing and sputtering, water pouring out of his mask. In any other circumstance it would have been funny for its absurdity. 

The less than ideal fighting conditions provided Jack with an advantage. It seemed his boots gripped the slick rocks a bit better than Reaper’s- not to mention the immense coat couldn’t have been doing him any favors. Gabriel almost always won sparring matches. But this time Jack finally had the edge. 

As Jack blocked another unsteady punch, his other hand shot out, taking advantage of an opening. In any other match he would have just punched his opponent in the face, but he suspected he would just hurt his knuckles. Instead he gripped Reaper’s mask, hooking his fingers into the openings.

His opponent went rigid, his usually precise attacks suddenly growing panicked; more reminiscent of frantic flailing than the calculated sparring Jack was used to. 

Jack pulled. The cracked mask came off. Reaper reeled back, his hands reflexively flying to his face. Soldier 76 pressed his advantage, pushing his opponent towards the cliff. He grabbed Reaper’s wrists, pushing his hands back, slamming them into the rocks. His face finally exposed. Jack’s heart skipped a beat, his breath catching in his throat. 

“My god...Gabe…” 

Reaper’s expression was wild, furious...panicked. His eyes wide, lips pulled back into a snarl. His skin was waxy with a distinctly gray hue. His face was speckled with black, necrotic looking wounds, including a hole in his cheek which exposed several molars. But most striking were his eyes. Completely black, no pupil, no iris, no whites. 

But through all of the changes, all of the horror...there were still the face he remembered. That same goatee and short cropped hair, though they now were peppered with gray. There was still that familiar nose, cheekbones, brow. It was him. It really was Gabriel. Staring at him, vulnerable and exposed, up to his chest in water as he allowed himself to sag, his wrists held in place, above his head. 

“Is this what you wanted to see? Happy now?” Reaper finally managed to hiss, struggling halfheartedly against Jack’s grip. His voice still carried an unearthly timber, though it was somewhat less hollow sounding without the mask.

“Gabriel…it’s really you...” Jack said, barely more than a whisper. After a moment's hesitation, staring at that face, he threw all caution, and all reason to the wind. He let go of Reaper’s wrists, threw his arms around Gabriel, drew him into a crushing hug, and buried his face into the crook of his neck. 

Reaper went rigid at this sudden turn of events for several long moments before he finally relaxed slightly. Slowly, almost methodically, his arms made their way around Jack. First with a gentle pressure, then gripping tighter and tighter, clawed gloves digging in painfully as he clutched at his back.

“Jack…” His voice was hesitant, shaky. 

The two stood, holding onto each other desperately as the waves knocked at Jack’s back, rocking them, and completely ignored. How many years had Jack longed for this? To hold him again? He never wanted to let go. Reaper was tense at first, but as the embrace dragged on he slowly relaxed, breathing out a quiet sigh. He leaned into Jack, and rested his head on Jack’s shoulder.

For a few, perfect moments, all was right with the world again. He had Gabe in his arms. He’d missed this so desperately, thought he’d never feel it again. He was firm, and strong, and warm against the cold water. Tears welled in his eyes. All those years. So many broken bones, new scars and bullet wounds, fighting the crusade Gabriel sent him on. All those years really, deep down, this was all he wanted.

Unfortunately, all too soon, some stray bullets came whizzing by, reminding them of the battle raging back in the real world. Jack’s headset was alive with chatter, the remaining few Talon agents were being pushed out, potentially towards their position. A couple more bullets whizzed by, hitting the water dangerously close. Jack looked up and spotted the agent taking shots at them. He grabbed his rifle off his back and quickly returned fire, dropping the agent in a burst of bullets before turning back to Reaper.

A faint, familiar smile twisted Gabriel’s lips glanced in the agent’s direction then back at Jack. “Nice shot.” 

Jack breathed out a laugh, smiling. “We should get out of here.”

Reaper nodded sharply, and the two started scrambling back up the cliff. 

About half way they came to a ledge that was just a little too high, with no good foot or hand holds along the sheer face. After a moment’s hesitation, Reaper seemed to sink into the stones, and appeared again, higher up the cliff. Jack felt a small bolt of panic as the man appeared out of reach, until Gabe knelt down, offering a hand, to help Jack scramble up the side. Eventually the two made it to dry land. As soon as they did, Reaper started to run.

“Wait!” Jack called, following after him, grabbing his arm.

Jack’s brain almost didn’t have time to register what happened next. Suddenly strange, metallic projectile struck Reaper in the shoulder, accompanied by a loud crack of gunfire. Jack’s muscles went rigid, pain shooting through his body. Both men crumpled to the ground in convulsions, Jack’s visor shorted out in a searing burst of color, and moments later he lost consciousness. 

***

It took a few days for Reyes to surreptitiously acquire Mr. Warren’s home address. The laptop he’d stolen from the man he’d tragically murdered somehow made it back to headquarters safe and largely unnoticed. Maintenance staff found it in the car he’d used, and helpfully returned it to Gabriel unexamined. He had to suppress a surge of panic when someone knocked on his door and handed it over, but from the innocent smile it was obvious they just thought he was absent minded, and didn’t suspect a thing. Besides, word spread almost immediately that Commander Reyes was a little “under the weather.” 

He had been largely ignored since his leave began. He issued a few basic marching orders for his men, reiterated who was in charge in his absence, and that was about it. Mercy even instructed Athena to cut his com if he used it for more than five minutes, short of a true emergency. 

Jack, true to his word, managed to creep into Gabriel’s room that first night. He was glad to have him there. Though Gabriel didn’t exactly have the presence of mind for any sort of love making, Jack’s presence was calming, comforting. Gabriel could just lay his head on his chest and listen to his heart beat. Someone warm, someone real, someone he adored. The same annoying thought danced through his head as he lay there, content. _Why did we wait so long?_ It didn’t matter. At least they had each other now.

Gabriel managed a few hours of sleep before he, predictably, woke again. Jack lay on his back, with Gabriel tucked against his side, leaning his head on his shoulder and probably making Jack’s whole arm go numb. Jack’s other hand rested on his stomach, on top of the blankets. After a few sleepless minutes, Gabriel started running his fingers over Jack’s hand, tracing the tendons and knuckles. Jack’s hands weren’t as calloused as one would expect. He wore gloves consistently on missions, though they were far from soft. They were rugged, strong, scarred, perfect in their imperfections. Like the rest of him.

After some time Jack stirred. He took Gabriel’s exploring hand in his own, lacing their fingers together with a sleepy, contented murmur. Thankfully, he didn’t mind being woken up by Gabriel’s insomnia. 

Gabriel squeezed Jack’s hand, his thoughts drifting back to his forced vacation. And what he would do with himself for a full month.

“Have you ever thought about retirement?” Gabriel asked quietly after Jack stirred, and tried to pull him in closer.

Jack grunted. “I always kind of assumed I’d die with my boots on…” Jack murmured, still half asleep, but with a faint smile twisting his lips. 

“Yeah, me too…”

“Now that the Omic crisis is over though, you know? Retirement doesn’t sound too bad. But only if I can share it with you.”

Gabriel smiled. “Yeah? What would you want to do?”

Jack emitted a sleepy rumble, his eyes sliding closed as he spoke. “Get a few acres somewhere. Out in the country. Set up a nice little farm…”

“Country boy,” Gabriel said with a smirk, giving his hand a squeeze.

“Mm. Yeah. Maybe have some chickens. Adopt some stray dog. Name him Frank…”

“Why Frank?” Gabriel chuckled.

“Knew a dog named Frank growing up. He was a great dog…” Jack murmured through a yawn, clearly falling back asleep. “Worst guard dog. He was supposed to bark when people came, but never did. Unless it was a racoon. Completely useless. Grumpy as hell, but fun…”

“Sounds nice.”

“Mmm…”

Soon enough Jack’s breathing returned to the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. Gabriel knew sleep wouldn’t return to him any time soon, but he closed his eyes anyway, enjoying laying quietly pressed against Jack’s side, imagining what life on this small farm would be like. He grew up moving from apartment to apartment, in the seemingly endless concrete sprawl of Los Angeles. He had a grudging love for the city. Though every time he returned after the crisis...the destruction broke his heart. Much remained standing, it didn’t suffer total destruction like some metropolises had. Nonetheless something about it had changed. Maybe getting away from the lights and the noise into some quiet corner in the middle of nowhere would be nice. He’d be able to see the stars every night…

When morning finally came, Jack was called away by his duties. He, predictably, ended up being unspeakably busy for the next few days. Though he did manage to make it back to Gabriel’s room on one other night.

During the long, lonely, boring days, Gabriel kept an eye out for reports of his victim’s demise. The operation had been flawless, but he couldn’t fully suppress the worry of being caught. About a day after the murder, a report showed up in a local paper, of a middle aged businessman tragically passing in his sleep of a heart attack at a local hotel. Reyes simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief at the report, and was filled with rage. The article gave a brief synopsis of the people he left behind (loving wife and teenage daughter) and some of the generous community work he did: Volunteering at crisis centers, being a good friend, coworker, and generally good citizen. _I murdered a good man...He had me murder a good, innocent man._

It didn’t take much time spent investigating the hacker’s laptop to confirm his overwhelming suspicion that Mr. Warren was involved in planting corrupted agents in their midst. Unfortunately most of the data on the laptop was encrypted, and while he was highly proficient with computers, he was far from a master hacker. He’d set a decryption program running on the laptop, but was going going to take time, if it succeeded at all. But he knew of one, more direct way he could get the information he wanted.

Tonight Jack had been called away overseas, leaving a sleepless Gabriel alone again. But he didn't mind. He had plans for tonight. Once again he found himself repelling down onto a balcony. He placed the very same lock picking device on the door he’d used on his last mission. It seemed fitting, somehow, to break into Mr. Warren’s apartment the same way he got into that poor man’s hotel room. Lights were still on inside. Reyes had been scouting the place for hours, waiting for the man to go to bed. He wondered a few times if Mr. Warren simply forgot to turn off some of the lights, but he would occasionally see movement. Unfortunately, it was nearing four in the morning, it was really now or never.

He felt a sense of urgency pressing down on his chest. Nothing had been the same after he killed that innocent man. The world felt wrong. He could forget, when Jack was in his arms, for a time. But as Gabriel predicted, Morrison’s job suddenly got more complicated with Reyes on temporary leave. He wasn’t in command of Blackwatch, but he didn’t work as well with Gabriel’s top men. There was less trust, despite everyone’s best efforts and intentions. Blackwatch was less willing to pick up the slack where Overwatch may need it, and Overwatch staunchly refused to ask for help. 

He had the insane idea that maybe if he took care of this problem, maybe if he fixed the sickness infecting Overwatch, the pressure would be released. Maybe he wouldn’t need to be so vigilant and would be able to sleep again. Part of him knew the notion was insane, but he couldn’t put it aside. This had to be done. He had to confront Warren about his crimes. 

Over the past few nights he’d barely slept a wink, even when Jack was in his bed (though he certainly helped.) The image of the dead man’s face seemed to stare back at him whenever he closed his eyes. When it wasn’t him then it was the black screen and the white text, spewing nonsense in its death throes, or one of the many other people he’d killed over the years. He was a soldier. He was a weapon, pointed where people told him to go. An enforcer. He did what he thought was right, and got his hands dirty doing it. Mr. Warren however. He was the real monster. He ordered people dead from his ivory tower, shuffled them around like pawns, toyed with lives like they were nothing. He didn’t have to see the faces of his victims as they realized their lives were over.

A second device clicked onto the doorframe, it hummed quietly for a few moments before the dim light on its exterior turned green: the security alarm was disengaged. Mr. Warren lived in a higher-end apartment complex, with exceptional security. A number of other politicians and dignitaries made their homes here. But it was nothing Reyes couldn’t handle. 

The living room was thankfully dark as Gabriel slipped inside. The sight that greeted him certainly didn’t feel like the lair of some super villain. Or perhaps it did. The living room was tastefully decorated, almost to the point of being tepid and boring, with stylish, inoffensive rugs trailing across the wooden floor, muffling Gabriel’s steps as he eased forward. He drew his gun, clutching the grip tightly, his hand shaking. This was no time for agitation, he needed a clear head. 

_Just fucking shoot the bastard._ The thought rang in his head as he approached a pool of light coming through the office’s door. He batted the thought aside, trying to quell the rage twisting in his gut. He wouldn’t get any answers if Mr. Warren was dead. 

_What are you doing here? This is a terrible idea._ Gabriel ignored the second nagging thought as stubbornly as he did the first. He had to do this.

Mr. Warren sat at a desk with his back to the door. He pecked away slowly at a computer, his leg idly bouncing as he did, oblivious to Gabriel’s approach. Gabriel slid up behind him and pushed the barrel of his gun to the back of the man’s head. Mr. Warren went ridged, and suddenly still.

“Mr. Warren…” Reyes growled, his eyes were nearly out of focus, it took all of his willpower to keep from trembling with rage.

Mr. Warren cleared his throat. “Ah. Gabriel...Good of you to visit…” he said in a voice meant to feign indifference; however a bright thread of tension still made its way into his words.

“I didn’t realize we were on a first name basis…” Gabriel grumbled, digging the barrel of his gun into his scalp. 

“I- My apologies. What brings you at this late hour?” he asked stiffly. 

_You know damn well why I’m here. Murderer. Traitor._ He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. _Focus._

“You had me kill an innocent man.” The words were barely audible, but Mr. Warren still heard them in the tense silence.

“I didn’t have you kill anyone, it was your choice-” Mr. Warren started. He sucked in his breath, leaning forward as the gun pressed harder into his head. “The man was a menace. People like that are dangerous.”

“People who are trying to do the right thing?”

“People sticking their noses where they don’t belong. Now if you wanted to discuss this like civilized men-”

“You’re working for Talon, aren’t you?” Reyes interrupted as Mr. Warren started to turn, jabbing him with the gun again. Warren quickly went back to staring at his desk.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered stiffly, after a little too long of a pause for Gabriel’s tastes. 

“You gave up your own agents to win my trust. You’re trying to bring down Overwatch. _Why?_ ” 

Silence settled heavily in the room as Mr. Warren considered his reply. That was fine. He could take his time. 

“We are trying to create a better world. We _will_ create a better world. A united world where there doesn’t need to be an Overwatch. You could help us. Blackwatch could join. We could work together, to build a better future. 

“Help turn the world into a dictatorship under Talon’s rule? Sounds fantastic,” Gabriel grumbled mirthlessly, the sarcasm dripping acidly from his words.

“No! Not at all! I know you see it, don’t you? You know all of this violence and strife, it’s just a game. But once we get rid of the players, it will all be over. It will be world peace!”

“You’re talking about overthrowing every government in the world.”

“They’re all selfish, they don’t truly have the best interests of humanity in mind!”

“You’re insane.”

“No, I see clearly. I can see what future we could have! A perfect world!”

“But at what cost? A global overthrow on the level you’re suggesting would cost millions- even billions of lives”

“What are a few lives in the indefinite march of history?” Mr. Warren jerked as he gestured excitedly. He’d been growing more and more agitated as the conversation wore on, his true, delusional colors starting to show. But something about this gesture caught Gabriel’s attention. There was something unnatural about the way he moved his leg, the way it tapped the inside of his desk.

It was a panic button. 

Gabriel didn’t feel himself pull the trigger, and nearly jumped at the sound, and the warm spray of blood that followed. 

He stood petrified, shock washing over him as Mr. Warren’s corpse slumped over his desk. Moments later his instincts kicked in and he ran back to the balcony. He holstered his gun, gathered his tech, and repelled off the building through the escape route he’d planned. He heard the commotion as security burst into Mr. Warren’s room all the way from the ground. There was no time to worry about what he’d done, or what the consequences would be. Gabriel’s mind was blank as he focused on simply disappearing into the night.

***

The lab was still in disarray after the Talon attack. Hana scowled at Reaper’s enclosure. Half of it had been replaced by what could only be described as a steel box. Great seams of epoxy and bolts held the box onto what remained of the clear enclosure. Massive tension straps were wrapped around the entire thing, giving it the impression of being some monstrous cage. While the glass box was never the most welcoming thing, there was something menacing about this new cobbled together cage. Just looking at the thing gave Hana anxiety. And it seemed to be doing a fair amount worse for its occupant.

The shattered pieces of what must have been the small end table lay strewn across the ground. The inside of the glass now sported smears of blood, brought on by Reaper’s fervent attempts to break out, even if it meant attacking the solid surface with his bare fists. Dr. Zeigler stood outside the enclosure, wringing her hands, pleading with Reaper to stop, before he hurt himself. He looked frantic, panicked. His eerie black eyes wide, and his lips drawn back into a snarl. He ignored her entirely. 

Ana’s shock bullet (courtesy of Winston) put both Reaper and Jack out for more than a day. They took the opportunity to repair Reaper’s cage, and remove his clawed gloves while he was unconscious. Once the medics dug the shrapnel out of Hana’s arm, she asked Athena to alert her as soon as Reaper regained consciousness. She was shocked to see him laying there in the med bay, with those strange, black wounds speckling his face. Nonetheless even she could recognize him from his old photos. It really was Gabriel Reyes. She couldn’t imagine what had happened to him, what looking like that must be like. She had a bad feeling about what his reaction would be upon waking up to find himself imprisoned again, and with his mask was lost somewhere in the ocean. 

Athena alerted Hana while she was in the shower. It couldn’t have taken her more than fifteen minutes to get down to the lab. 

Dr. Zeigler gave up on her pleading as Reaper continued to ignore her. She hurried over to a table of medical supplies, tears welling as she loaded a syringe. 

“What are you doing?” Hana asked, tailing Mercy, watching curiously, and with a touch of horror as the doctor loaded the syringe into what looked like a small pistol. 

“I’m going to sedate him- he’s going to hurt himself- even worse. He’s been frantic since the moment he regained consciousness,” she said, her voice shaky as she blinked away tears.

“So you’re just going to tranq him like a wild animal!?” Hana squealed, aghast. Dr. Zeigler whirled on her.

“He’s hurting himself! I don’t know what else to do!” She gestured wildly to the enclosure, as Reaper still slammed his fists into the glass, grunting and growling with frustration, blood now pouring down his knuckles. 

Hana scowled at the doctor, her hands firmly on her hips. She was usually so calm and collected, but ever since Reaper showed up it was like she was falling apart. And Dr. Zeigler wasn’t the only one. McCree and Leena just seemed sad and confused. Morrison was so gloomy she barely even saw him speak, not that he was particularly sociable to start with. Sometimes it felt like the new members were the only ones who still had their heads on their shoulders. 

Wordlessly, Hana spun on her heel and marched over to the enclosure. She punched her access code into the door.

“Wait! What are you doing! Don’t go in there! He’s dangerous! Hana!” Dr. Zeigler grabbed D.Va’s arm, but she roughly shrugged the doctor off. 

“You’re right, he’s going to hurt himself in there, and I’m going to stop him,” she snapped, slipping inside the enclosure and slamming the door shut behind her. Dr. Zeigler took a few steps back, clenching the dart pistol to her chest, biting her lip. 

“Hana…”

Reaper barely noticed Hana’s actions until the door snapped shut again, his eyes flicking wildly to the entrance, then back to the wall. Hana spotted a small crack where he was focusing his attacks. She couldn’t tell if he’d caused it, or if it had already been there, and had drawn his attention. He turned into a mist and slammed into the wall, before being jolted back into his solid form by the security field. He staggered for a moment, before redoubling his efforts, slamming his shoulder against the wall. Hana winced at the force, and hurried forward.

“Hey, hey...stop. I’m here…” She said soothingly, reaching a hand out, gently placing her fingers on his bicep, trying to slowly guide him away from the wall. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re okay…”

He glanced wild eyed between her and the wall, her words slowly sinking in. He lashed out a few more times, almost compulsively, before he gave into the gentle pressure and slowly stepped away from the barrier. He was shaking like a leaf. She’d seen this kind of thing before, brought on by the trauma of Omnic attacks. 

“Here, it’s okay. Try and breathe with me. Do you think you can do that? Just…” she demonstrated, inhaling deeply, before slowly exhaling as she guided Reaper back towards the bed. He stared fixedly ahead, and didn’t follow her lead, but he seemed to relax a little regardless. He slowly sank to the floor, leaning against the bed. Hana sat down next to him, taking his hand. She looked down at his bloodied knuckles, wincing. His hands sported the same strange wounds his face did, and one of his fingernails was missing. Another finger sported only half of a nail, as if it was growing back from having fallen off previously. She furrowed her brow, it looked painful…

Hana gently rubbed Reaper’s shoulder, murmuring reassurances as he settled in. It was hard, with his strange black eyes, to tell what he was looking at, or if he was even focusing on anything. After several long moments he come back into himself a little. He glanced at Hana, then around his cage. He self consciously tugged his hood further forward, hiding inside of it, shrinking against the bed.

“Where’s Jack?” He asked quietly, hesitantly, the words seeming to catch in his throat as he glanced around the room.

“I think he’s still in the med bay. The shock charge shorted out his visor pretty bad…But it looks like he’s gonna be okay. Lucio’s repairing it. Do you want me to see if I can get him?” 

After a few moments Reaper slowly shook his head, beginning to rock, thumping rhythmically against the bed. Hana responded by giving his shoulder a comforting squeeze. 

“Is there anything you want me to get for you? Anything you need?”

“Out of here?” Reaper grumbled, the faintest tinge of sarcasm making its way into his voice. Hana smiled, it seemed like a good sign. She chuckled faintly. 

“Sorry, I don’t think the others would let us get away with that one. Anything else though?”

Reaper breathed out something that sounded like a laugh, drawing another smile from Hana.

“I just. Hate closed spaces…” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“I’m sorry...I wish there was something I could do…” Hana said, still gently massaging his shoulder as she studied his face. Reaper’s fingers slowly closed around her other hand, as he once again sank into silence, shaking his head faintly. 

“You know, I’m gonna make sure we can get you a game controller in here, so we can play. There’s this new game I think you’d like. Have I told you about it?” Hana asked brightly, squeezing his hand back. He shook his head. “Well, it’s this game called ‘Conquerors of Discord’ and you play as…” she prattled on for a while about the game, describing the story, the mechanics, the art, everything she could think of, anything to distract him and keep him occupied. Reaper didn’t respond much, other than the occasional nod, but none the less he slowly seemed to relax as she spoke. 

Eventually, Hana ventured a look over her shoulder. Dr. Zeigler stood outside the enclosure, the tranquilizer pistol still clutched to her chest. She didn’t seem as anxious anymore. Instead tears streamed freely down her face, sad smile on her lips. She mouthed a silent _thank you_ , brushing away her tears, embarrassed. Hana offered her a sympathetic smile before turning her attention back to Reaper, continuing her one-sided conversation. 

Hana overheard Ana mutter one day as she watched Jack slink off down a hall. “There sure are a lot of ghosts around here lately…” At first the comment struck Hana as odd. But now? She had to agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes!  
> -Finally another chapter! Sorry for the wait! Unfortunately the break between this and the next will probably just as long if not longer, we'll see. But then it's winter break! And I'll finish this beast!  
> -At least this wasn't an evil a cliffhanger  
> -D.Va is the best and I will fight anyone who disagrees.  
> -I really wish I had an actual firm number of chapters left for you guys, but as I said before, I'm hilariously bad at estimating scene length like woah. But hopefully by mid December I'll have an answer. At least everything is outlined to the end already!  
> -And most importantly! <3 to all my readers.


	9. Chapter 9

“Oh thank god you’re awake, Jack, I am so. So sorry. I saw the shot and I took it! I didn’t even think about- I mean. How stupid of me! I know how electricity works! Of course it was going to hit you too!” Ana said. Jack barely suppressed a jump when she suddenly took his hand. Lucio had just left after checking him over and giving him a clean bill of health, at least besides his fried visor, which he and Winston were working on. Morrison didn’t catch Ana’s entrance. She was too far in the dark, blurry peripheries of what remained of his vision, and he was too distracted to hear her approach. Although he couldn’t make out any of her features, he could practically hear the way her brows furrowed when she spoke. He’d seen that look many times before when they were young, and even since. Though right now when he looked at her all he could see of her face was a brown shape in a halo of white.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it. You didn’t have much of a choice,” Jack grumbled. He wanted to sound more reassuring, but the splitting headache pounding behind his eyes put a bit of a damper on his false sincerity. Though he supposed it was really for the best. If Reaper wanted to flee there wasn’t much Jack could have done to stop him. Even if he could run him down, Reaper could always turn into a mist and slip from his grasp. This way he was still in their custody.

What would he have done if Ana hadn’t shot? Would Reaper have turned on him? Would they have talked? Could Jack have convinced him to come back willingly? He squeezed his eyes shut. There was no use speculating over what-ifs. This was how things played out; moving forward was all that mattered. He needed to plan the next step.

Though right now realistically his next step was waiting for Lucio and Winston to fix his visor…

“I should have waited. That was a lot of voltage! I could have killed you!”

“You’ll need more than a little shock to take me down.”

Ana scoffed, squeezing Jack’s hand. “God, you’re such a meathead. You didn’t _used_ to be such a meathead,” Ana said with a chuckle.

“Well. I guess people change,” Jack grumbled. Ana let out a long sigh, her mirth evaporating.

“You’re right. We’ve all changed. Though some...more than others…”

Jack looked down at his lap. It’s not like he could see Ana’s eyes to make eye contact, but the motion was just ingrained. “How is he?”

“Not. Great. Well, I guess Hana’s keeping him company. Calmed him down. Sounds like he went off a little when he woke up. Had some sort of panic attack or nervous breakdown or something…”

Jack sat up, scowling, starting to scoot his way off the bed. “I should be there-”

“Oh no you don’t. What do you think you’d accomplish? Shuffle your blind ass in there and get yourself killed? Hell, you’d probably just aggravate him more. Same if I went. Hana has the situation under control.” She grabbed Jack’s shoulder, trying to keep him on the bed. He surrendered, his scowl deepening.

“I have no idea why he and Hana of all people seem to get along so well…”

“I know, right?” Ana chuckled. “I guess they don’t have baggage, unlike the rest of us. And maybe they have things in common? They both seem to have a certain...flair?”

Jack huffed out half a laugh. “I guess.”

“Whatever happened to you two?” Ana asked quietly, “you used to be thick as thieves…”

Jack paused for a long moment, trying to think of an answer. Eventually he settled on the truth. “I don’t know.” He shook his head, sadly. He really didn’t know. He was so naive back then. But even looking back with hindsight he still didn’t know, not for sure. During his quest through the years, to find who was really responsible for Overwatch’s fall, he began to develop suspicions. Theories. But every time he thought he had an answer he’d find some other possibility, or some reason to doubt.

All he knew was he should have been more attentive, he should have listened, he shouldn’t have been so willing to write everything off. He was selfish. He finally had Gabe to himself, blissfully in love. Keeping it a secret because of their jobs wasn’t ideal, but he was more than happy to take it. He’d wanted it for so long he would have accepted any strings. But when the cracks started to show...he was in denial. He refused to accept it. Nothing could disrupt what they had.

Excuses piled up in Jack’s head for years afterwards. For why he hadn’t seen. He was too busy with his job. The spies and conspiracy were throwing everything off, making him doubt his judgment. He couldn’t imagine something getting to Reyes, he was one of the strongest people Jack had ever known. _Except strength has nothing to do with it. Idiot._

The bottom line was Gabriel needed help. And Jack let him down.

Though how he became Reaper after everything? That remained a complete mystery, even with hindsight. Then again, Jack had picked up the mantle of Soldier 76, it’s not like was in a position to judge. Maybe the damn gene therapy had programmed a particular brand of vigilante madness in their DNA. Reaper’s agenda, however? Jack still couldn’t piece it together. Revenge against all of Overwatch just didn’t sound right. It wasn’t Gabe’s style. And he had to believe Gabe was still in there, he _knew_ Gabe was still in there.

After the explosion at the Swiss headquarters Jack had been...confused. He took a harsh blow to the head, and through some bad luck the rescue crews didn’t find him soon enough. Instead he somehow dug his own way out and eventually came to his senses wandering the streets. He was so black and blue, no one recognized him. By the time his senses cleared, reports confirming Gabriel’s demise had already made the news. It was like another blow to the head. He couldn’t go back. It felt like his life was over. Gabriel was gone, and Overwatch was in its death throes. As soon as he saw the headline everything changed. He disappeared into the city, and never looked back.

Faint sounds came from Ana’s com. After a few moments she muttered and acknowledgment and patted Jack’s hand. “Sorry, Jack. I need to get going. I’m sorry again. I’m sure they will have you good as new soon!”

Morrison nodded, and said his awkward goodbyes as Ana made her way out of the room. He sighed with relief once she was gone. He’d been happy to discover she was still alive, but Reaper was far from the only individual around carrying baggage from the past.

A few minutes later he heard new footsteps approaching. Light on their feet, quick steps with almost a bit of spring, he guessed Lena before she even opened her mouth.

“Heya! Good to see you’re up! Lucio says they’re running some calibrations on your visor that should take a few hours, then it’ll be good as new! But in the meantime I’m you’re seeing-eye-Tracer! I hear food’s ready. We can head down to the mess!”

“Sure, I could use a bite…” Jack said with a casual shrug, though the truth was he wasn’t hungry. He just wanted a distraction, any distraction was better than sitting here in the quiet with his thoughts, once again tearing apart his history with Gabriel, searching for what went wrong.

Lena grabbed him a change of clothes and waited while he dressed. Fortunately Jack was used to navigating many simple tasks by feel. He knew he couldn’t always count on his visor. It could break, the neural connections could glitch, he could be without sight for any number of reasons, so he made it a point to practice, everything from brushing his teeth to basic combat training. Still, help guiding him to the dining hall was appreciated. The matching gray of the hallways and the uniform lighting made the place a nightmare to navigate, and he hadn’t yet completely memorized the floor plan.

Once Jack was dressed, Lena hooked her elbow around Jack’s arm and led the way. She started chattering, bringing Jack up to speed on everything that happened since he was unconscious, which wasn’t much… with the exception of a confirmed sighting of Angela and Fareeha bickering, which seemed to upset Lena more than was justified. Jack couldn’t help but crack a smile at that. For all the things happening right now, to think that interpersonal gossip would still rank among the top priorities. Some things never change. It really was a wonder no one found out about him and Reyes. Well. Almost no one.

“This is not a smiling matter, Jack, what’s wrong with you!” Lena snapped, gently punching his arm. Morison chuckled, despite himself.

“I wasn’t smiling at their fight, I was smiling at you.”

Lena laughed. “Well, I guess that works. It’s good to see you smile. You’ve been awfully gloomy since you came back…I was hoping when you joined up it’d finally be like old times? Ya know?”

The smile slowly melted from Jack’s lips, and he sighed, shaking his head.

“Yeah. Guess it was a little silly of me to hope, wasn’t it?” Lena said, growing somber.

“No...it’s not silly…” _Naive? Optimistic? Yes. But silly?_ “It’s never silly to hope.”

Lena gave his arm a squeeze at that, her smile reflected brightly in her voice. “Right! See, I knew Nice Jack was still in there somewhere. Not just Grumpy Pants Jack.”

Jack huffed a laugh out his nose, shaking his head. “I guess you caught me.”

The common area smelled delicious as they approached, warmly spiced with a hint of sweetness. Jack really didn’t approve of Overwatch getting back together, and had joined out of convenience more than anything else. He had a relationship with Winston that was probably only mildly less confrontational than the one the great ape had with Reaper. Still, Jack was impressed sometimes. They didn’t have a support staff yet, so meals were up to the group. Everyone had been taking turns on food duty, and some of the more skilled cooks of Overwatch had been letting their talent shine.

Today McCree had scraped together a huge vat of chili, which had been simmering all day. Someone plopped a healthy bowl of it and a fat slice of cornbread in front of Jack moments after he sat down. McCree assured everyone this was ‘literally the only dish he knew how to cook,’ but, he conceded with a prideful note “At least it was a good one.”

Once everyone stopped gushing over the food, the conversation topic slowly started sliding back to the most common issue: The Reaper problem. It made Jack miss his visor even more, since he didn’t have anything to hide behind. Hana wasn’t present; she was still with him. Apparently Dr. Zeigler was concerned Reaper may have broken his hand, but didn’t know how to go about treating him without completely sedating him. His reaction to her presence seemed poor at best.

“He’s been in custody for days! Why’d you think he lost his mind _now?_ ” McCree asked around a mouthful. Jack cringed, remembering the way Gabriel tried to hide his face when he pulled the mask off. He suspected that wasn’t the only reason, but it couldn’t help…

“Yeah. It’s weird, right? He was always so...level headed,” Lena chimed in.

“Lena...the guy’s running around with some skull mask thing calling himself ‘Reaper.’ I think he left anything resembling level headed a while ago,” Lucio added. “He needs help for sure, but I’m not sure what we could do for him here or what his deal is. Were there really no signs of this when you all knew him?”

A halfhearted chorus of “no’s” went around the table as the old members scanned their memories, some sounding a little more sure than others, and a few dissolving into faint conceits about his well known insomnia and a few scattered incidents of odd behavior, none of which served as any kind of red flag.

“Well...they did suspect him for murdering that one fellow. What was his name… The UN guy...” Fareeha added hesitantly. Jack set his spoon down, trying not to give anything away, his meager appetite dissolving instantly.

“Nah, he was cleared of that! He had an alibi or something? Oh! That’s right! He was with Jack when Mr. Warren died, isn’t that right?” Lena offered, helpfully. Jack slumped in his chair, staring blankly down at the table. “Right...Jack?”

Jack could feel the eyes on him as he sat. He took a sip of water, buying himself time. Reyes hadn’t been a suspect for long, but somehow the word got out, and the notion was so scandalous that rumor spread among the ranks like wildfire. The details of Gabe’s alibi were never leaked, which also helped fuel the fires of rumor. Finally Jack sighed as the silence grew intolerable. There was no use sitting on the secret at this point.

“I lied.”

“Wha-?” Lena choked out, unable to even put her shock into words. Though the rest of the table managed in her stead, demanding answers.

“You lied to the authorities?” Ana snapped. Jack scowled down at his chili, not sure when Ana had appeared again. Like she was one to talk…

“So he _did it?_ ” Reinhardt gasped.

“Mr. Warren was a Talon agent,” Jack said.

Everyone started talking at once, throwing questions at Jack. _How did you know? Why didn’t you tell us! What happened?_

“Gabe found out. We didn’t know who to trust yet, and couldn’t tip our hand,” Jack explained casually. A half truth, at least. It seemed to satisfy most of the table. He couldn’t tell them the real story, at least not yet. For some reason McCree still hadn’t let slip that he and Gabe had been lovers. And Jack was happy to keep it that way.

The questions continued for a while, until Jack finally shut them down. “It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter now.” He grumbled. He heard a disgusted snort from Winston. The ape was free to judge all he wanted. He never would have initiated the recall if he knew everything Morrison knew. If he was aware of just how deep the sickness ran. Jack wanted to believe everyone sitting around the table was trustworthy. He’d numbered some of these people as his closest friends. But by the end? He didn’t know anymore. And neither did Gabe.

Eventually Jack finished his meal and excused himself. He turned down Lena’s eager offer to help him to his room. It wasn’t far; he could find it on his own. He made his way out of the room, then down the hall, running his fingers along the walls as he went. First door...second door...he counted as he walked. His room was the fourth down the first hallway on the left. He entered the room and locked the door behind him before he made his way into the even darker space. He walked until he bumped into the bed, scowling as he almost tipped over it. He must have miscounted a step at some point. He made a mental note. Five paces. Not six.

Morrison lay down on the bed, and stared up at nothing, just the thick haze of darkness. There was no reason to turn on a light, and he was tired. Recovery didn’t go as quickly as it used to, and the weight of those terrible memories brought up at the dinner table did nothing to lighten his mood.

Jack could remember that awful visit like it was yesterday. Two special investigators showed up at his office shortly after Mr. Warren’s unexpected demise. Jack was dumbfounded. When the investigators arrived he immediately started grilling _them_ for information, assuming they were there to enlighten the head of Overwatch about the situation. He didn’t have to feign his shock when they started asking _him_ questions instead.

“Do you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Commander Reyes at four AM the morning of Warren’s death?” one finally demanded, interrupting Morrison’s string of questions. He stopped cold, his mouth falling open. Everything came crashing together in that instant. Jack broke out in a cold sweat, his mind spinning.

Jack had been away that night, or he was going to be. The mission fell through, and Jack actually returned to base close to midnight. He made his way to Gabriel’s room, hoping to surprise him. He was a little dismayed to find it empty, but it wasn’t entirely surprising. Jack flopped down on the bed and fell asleep, fully expecting Gabriel to show up soon enough after one of his insomnia workouts. A couple hours later he woke to find himself still alone. He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Gabe, asking where he was, only to hear Gabe’s phone buzz a few feet away. He got up to investigate, and found not only the phone, but Gabriel’s com sitting on his desk. Wherever Gabe was, he was apparently off the grid.

At the time, a paranoid string of panic ran through Jack, wondering if Gabe was cheating on him. He stomped the thought away. Why on earth would he leave his phone to run off and cheat? He probably just wanted to be alone, really alone for a time. Jack had no justification to feel hurt or offended that Gabe didn’t tell him. After all, Jack told Gabe he would be away, it’s not like Reyes was supposed to sit around pining for him. Still, it was all rather odd.

And suddenly, with one question, Jack knew exactly where Reyes had been. And why he’d left his com…

“I...uh...come again?” Jack stammered out, trying to buy himself time as his thoughts started to come into order. A plan. This was just like any other emergency, he needed to think on his feet and come up with a plan. They repeated their question as Jack rubbed his face, letting some of his anxiety leak into his expression.

“Have you asked Commander Reyes?”

“We have. We were hoping for some corroboration to his story.”

Jack groaned, coming around from behind his desk. He walked to the door and locked it with a quiet sigh. What story would Gabriel have told them? Probably that he was asleep in his room. Alone. Athena could give records telling them where his com was. He was good enough if he wanted to escape the base without detection he could have dodged all of the cameras. If he wanted his lie to be anything other than alone in his room he would have transported his com and phone elsewhere…

The investigators exchanged glances as Morrison locked the door, but remained silent, awaiting Jack’s response.

It was a gamble. But Jack decided to take it. “He was in his room. All night,” He said, coming to stand by his desk again, avoiding eye contact with the investigators, breaking into a cold sweat. Though he studied them out the corner of his eye, gauging their responses with his well trained eyes. It seemed like he’d hit on the correct answer, though they tried to remain carefully impassive. At the very least the answer didn’t come as a surprise.

“You _assume_ he was in his room.” one of the investigators prompted. Jack started to go red in the face. The best lies were always the ones that ran parallel to the truth…

Jack cleared his throat, finally looking back to the investigators. _This better work…_ “I...you see. This is a very sensitive...I. If I tell you what I know I trust it will be kept in the _strictest_ confidence. Correct? I- we- absolutely cannot have this getting out. For the good of Overwatch...”

The investigators leaned forward, eagerly. “Of course, Commander Morrison. Was he on a classified mission?”

Jack cleared his throat again. “No. He was in his room. All night. I know, because I was with him.” He braced his hands on the desk to keep them from shaking. He was so tense at this point he didn’t have to act very much to appear appropriately distraught at this false confession. And it was effective. The revelation landed on the two investigators like a bucket of water to the face.

“...Planning...missions?” One of the investigators offered weakly, knowing full well it was the incorrect answer. His partner glanced at him, biting back a smirk at the response, though she looked equally shocked by this turn of events.

Jack sat heavily in his chair, covering his face with his hands. “No...no… We were...we were in bed- you understand I _cannot_ have this getting out!”

One investigator frowned, shifting in his seat, leaning forward. “That’s not what commander Reyes told us. He said he was alone…”

“I-I’m sure whatever he told you, he was just trying to protect me...I mean. The scandal it would cause!” Jack rambled as the investigators stared at him. One looked completely flabbergasted, while the other had the start of a joyous twinkle in her eye, delighted by the dirt they’d bumbled into. Both seemed to be buying it completely.”Surely you understand? This can’t possibly be the first time someone’s lied about something like this…”

“You know, lying to investigators is a serious matter,” she said, trying to sound menacing, though unable to completely erase the smirk from her face.

“God, I know. But please, I’m sure he was only trying to protect me. I know he was. And working black ops like that all the time? And he’s been under stress lately, I am so sorry…”

The other investigator sighed, looking more disappointed and annoyed than anything else. Jack struggled to keep looking distraught. That was the look of a man whose lead suspect just imploded on him. “Well, Commander Morrison. Thank you for your candor. Rest assured, you have our discretion. I see no reason why the details of your disclosure would need to leave these four walls.”

Jack heaved a long sigh of relief. “Thank you. I know, I know...it’s probably not very professional but, it’s not _technically_ against regulations and-”

The female investigator raised her hand with a soft smile. “Say no more. I think we understand the situation.”

Jack nodded. “Yes. Right. But, you’ll let me know when you have any leads? This...is deeply concerning. Overwatch has been having enough troubles lately; we can’t afford to leave any stone unturned in this matter. If there’s absolutely _anything_ we can do to assist your investigation we will be happy to render any aid we can.” Jack said, quickly reverting back to business, running a hand over his hair, like he was trying to scrub away his former anxiety, though inside he was singing with triumph. _The lie worked._

He confronted Gabriel as soon as he had the opportunity. It took Jack’s own confession that he lied to the investigators before Gabriel finally admitted what happened. The two sat on Gabriel’s bed, shoulder to shoulder in the darkness, both staring down at the floor. It made a strange kind of sense to realize Mr. Warren was working for the enemy. Many of Jack’s recruits came directly from him...most of them in fact. Enough that they couldn’t all have possibly been corrupt, but it would have made slipping the bad ones in a simple matter.

“Why didn’t you tell me this was happening?” Jacked asked after a long stretch of silence.

It was another long while before Gabe responded. “It was just something I had to take care of myself.”

“Gabe, I’m here for you. You don’t have to deal with this shit alone…”

“I didn’t want to get you involved. God...I can’t believe you lied like that. And that it worked.”

“I guess we’re both liars now.”

“Fuck, Jack, I’m sorry…”

Jack slid his arm around Gabe’s waist, pulling him close. “Don’t be.”

Gabriel sagged into him with a sigh. Jack smiled faintly, leaning his cheek against Gabe’s head. All the tension and anxiety he’d been carrying in his chest since his meeting with the investigators melted away. He protected Gabe. Gabe wasn’t mad. Jack didn’t care if his lie came back to haunt him, hurt his career, this was all that mattered.

After a time, to Jack’s surprise, Gabe breathed out a quiet chuckle. “You’re a crazy son of a bitch, you know that?”

Jack blinked, dismayed. “Pardon?”

“I can’t believe you made that up on the fly- figured all that out. And that they _bought it._ ”

Jack chuckled. “Yeah they did. Bought it wholesale.”

Gabe crawled into Jack’s lap, straddling him, a wicked grin twisting its way across his lips as he ran his fingers through Jack’s hair. “You are such a bullshitter. God I love you…”

Jack didn’t have a chance to respond before Gabriel dove in for a kiss, biting Jack’s lip, pulling them even closer as he ground himself down on Jack’s lap. A delighted moan escaped Jack despite himself. Gabriel’s kisses still sent his head spinning, even after months. They were so firm and demanding, yet paradoxically gentle, long and lingering. Never enough teeth to truly hurt but just enough to make Jack gasp and turn to putty in his hands.

Jack had never been particularly driven by sex. He’d only had two lovers before Gabriel. One was his high school sweetheart, a determined young woman who wound up being the school track star. Their intimate contact was always brief, and occasionally awkward. The second was a petite, yet incredibly fierce man who knew what he liked and wasn’t afraid to demand it from Jack. Neither held a candle to Gabe. Sometimes Jack tried to puzzle out why. From a purely physical standpoint, Gabe was significantly larger than both. He was more experienced than his high school sweetheart, obviously, but not any more than the second lover. But in the end Jack simply had to conclude it was their bond, their closeness. After so many years they were practically of one mind. They worked together seamlessly on the battlefield and in bed. They could communicate without words, or with them... whenever Jack managed to choke something out other than gasped profanity.

Gabriel broke off the kiss eventually, purring sweet nothings in Spanish into Jack’s ear before nibbling his way down Jack’s neck, biting down occasionally, causing the most pleasurable ache as Jack pulled his head away, allowing for better access.

Jack was able to pick out a few of Gabe’s words this time. _Beautiful, love, sweet._ He’d been casually teaching himself some Spanish in rare moments of down time. Of course, Gabriel had taught him a number of things over the years, though they were mostly rude or silly. And the one time Jack worked up the nerve to ask what he was saying, Gabe claimed it was his grocery list. This response earned him a playful smack with a pillow.

Gabe worked his hands under Jack’s shirt, eventually yanking it off over his head. Jack happily reciprocated, flinging Gabe’s shirt away, running his hands over his partner’s chiseled muscles. Jack savored the sight of his scar marked, yet absolutely perfect brown skin. He was damn _gorgeous_.

Gabe inched forward, the bulge in his pants knocking against Jack’s own growing hardness. The two ground against each other for a while, Jack taking his turn nibbling down Gabe’s neck, licking the salt from his skin, sucking a purple welt onto the nape of his neck. Gabe chided him the next morning for it, but with a conspiratorial smile.

Finally Gabe reached down, undoing Jack’s pants, pulling his length free. He repositioned himself in Jack’s lap, pulling himself out as well, and took both of them in his palm, stroking rhythmically as he continued to grind his length against Jack’s.

Their lips remained locked together as Gabe stroked them, until Jack started getting close. He clutched at Gabe’s hand, squeezing, and leaned his face into the nape of Gabe’s neck, his breath hot and ragged. It didn’t take long for him to cum, Gabe following suit shortly after. Jack bit back a satisfied hum and a faint shiver of pleasure as he felt Gabe’s cock pulsing against his own.

The two nuzzled together as they grew soft, still happy to stay contentedly cuddled up in the warmth of one another’s embrace. An island of perfection in the chaos that was quickly consuming their lives.

In that moment he had no regrets, and he stayed that way for a long time. It wasn’t until weeks later that the doubt started to creep in.

A faint red haze flashed in the edges of Jack’s vision, accompanied by a soft buzz. He unfolded from the fetal position he found himself in and looked to the bed table. A blinking red glow in a sea of darkness. His com.

“ _Your visor’s good to go! Or at least safe to test out. You can c’mon down to the med bay when you have a second! Want me to swing by and get you?_ ” Lucio’s cheerful voice rang out after Jack answered.

“I’ll be down in a few,” Jack replied gruffly, before ending the transmission. He once again stared up at the ceiling, trying to flush the memories, good and bad, from his system. He adjusted his pants uncomfortably. There was something especially upsetting about reliving those arousing memories knowing Gabriel was in the building. Nausea pooled in his gut.

After several long minutes to cool off, Jack started making his way down to the med bay. He suddenly regretted turning down the assistance as he walked, but he didn’t particularly want to risk having to explain his delay. They hadn’t been using this base of operations for long, and Jack was so distracted by Reaper he hadn’t been as attentive about memorizing the layout as he usually would have been.

As he approached the turn he hoped was towards the med bay, he heard voices. He paused before he rounded the corner, listening.

“What do you mean you can’t fix it? We can’t keep him in there like that. It’s inhumane!” Angela said, her voice tense and strained. Winston let out a loud huff.

“I don’t see why including half a steel box in there changes anything about his prison. But no, I can’t fix it. I don’t have the materials! And Overwatch doesn’t exactly have much of an operating budget right now…”

“Well we have to do something. He needs help,” Angela said.

“Well maybe we should just turn him over to the authorities. Though I doubt they’ll provide him with a luxurious glass box either,” Winston grumbled.

“This isn’t funny!”

“I wasn’t saying it was! Look. Angela. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you. If you have any other suggestions I’m happy to hear them. I think this situation may be beyond our capabilities right now. I’m serious, we should hand him over to the authorities,” Winston grumbled.

“We can’t! We owe him, we all owe _Gabe_ ,” Angela pleaded.

“Don’t look at me! Psychiatry isn’t really my area,” Lucio said with a sigh. “Obviously he needs some help. Maybe turning him over’s for the best? But I never knew the guy, and if you think one of you has better odds of connecting with him, by all means we should keep him around a bit longer. But. I mean- no offense, Angela, I know you and everyone else means well. But I think we all know Hana’s been able to reach him because she’s _not_ one of the old members, right? I don’t know what happened with all of you back then, but it seems like some shit went down that none of you are dealing with and it’s just making everything worse. Whatever we’re gonna do, we gotta do something.”

Lucio cleared his throat after a few seconds of silence. “I mean. That’s my two cents…”

“No, you’re right,” Angela said finally, defeated. “I’ll...I have some people I can consult with. See if they can advise me. But we’re not handing him over quite yet…”

“Angela, I’m sorry I can’t fix it. I would if I could,” Winston offered weakly.

“No, I know. Sorry I snapped at you.”

“Do you know why it’s made such a difference?” Winston asked.

“He’s claustrophobic,” Angela answered a little too swiftly. “He uh, always has been. To an extent.”

“Guess that makes sense? That’s rough…” Lucio said.

With the conversation dying down, Jack finally decided to round the corner. Lucio and Dr. Zeigler descended on him almost immediately, suddenly cheering. They finally had a problem they could fix. They shuffled him off to an exam table and placed his visor in his hands. The familiar shape was immediately comforting. He felt out the ends, the neural nodes, and carefully raised it to his eyes. There was a sharp, familiar sting as it reengaged. The pain passed swiftly and the blurry shapes of the world slowly started taking on defined edges. Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Angela’s red rimmed, but still smiling eyes come into focus.

After a few tests, Jack’s visor was declared good as new, and he once again excused himself. He chewed on what he’d overheard. Claustrophobic. Gabe was never particularly fond of small spaces, but blaming what had been described to him on that seemed like a stretch.

Lucio was right about a lot of things. It seemed unlikely the old guard were going to be able to reach Reaper. And they absolutely had to do _something._ Jack hated to be without a plan, and they’d been without one for weeks now, and had gotten nowhere. It was time to act.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Once again a shout out to my readers/commenters. You're all the best  
> -Got this out sooner than anticipated! It's almost like I've needed some sort of escapism the last couple weeks. Wonder why...  
> -I hope you all appreciated a little bit of a calm before more storm  
> -a full Jack chapter with no ***s wtf is going on  
> -So it turns out AO3 will force insert formatting on every line if you forget to close a tag. So that's cool...


	10. Chapter 10

The days dragged by at an agonizingly slow pace while Reyes’ leave continued. As predicted, Jack was busier than ever as trust and communications rapidly dissolved between Blackwatch and Overwatch; Despite Gabriel’s attempts to prevent it without Dr. Zeigler finding out he was not, in fact, taking time away. Within the first two weeks of his leave three important operations went down in flames. All under suspicious circumstances. Reyes ground his teeth at the mission reports. He thought dealing with Warren would alleviate their problems. He was foolish to hope.

A few times Reyes simply left the base, picked a direction and just drove, or walked. His sleep wasn’t returning to any semblance of normalcy, and usually he could just nap somewhere if the urge hit him and there wasn’t a hotel in range. He always took his secure laptop with him, and the laptop taken from the hacker. Angela may have wanted him off duty, but there was no way he was taking his focus off whatever was happening to Overwatch. If anything this forced leave just granted him the opportunity to study the problem uninterrupted. 

He found a list of suspects on the hacker’s laptop. People he thought might be compromised. It was a lengthy list. At first Reyes dismissed it, it was too long, it contained nearly half the members of Overwatch and a substantial chunk of Blackwatch. But it also contained all the names of individuals who had been confirmed spies.

While even the hacker conceded in his own personal notes that not everyone on the list could possibly actually be compromised, the list seemed to be pretty on point. Especially considering the fact that Talon was known to have brainwashing technology. At least Reyes himself wasn’t on the list. He slept so little even if he was somehow brainwashed it was hard to imagine when he could possibly be acting outside his own will. It was also a relief to find McCree absent from the list. 

Gabriel tried to ignore the fact that both Dr. Zeigler and Morrison were mentioned. 

By the end of the month Reyes’ sleep routine stabilized somewhat as the drugs slowly filtered out of his body and he had no meetings or obligations to fulfil when exhaustion hit, allowing him to sleep whenever he pleased. Something of a new routine developed, though neither he nor Angela were particularly happy with it. He ended up sleeping for a few hours at a time every ten hours or so. The soldier enhancement program had sped his metabolism and his recovery times. All Dr. Zeigler could guess was it somehow sped up his internal clock as well. It seemed fighting it and trying to make it in tune with everyone else’s had only made it worse in the previous months. Though this new arrangement was hardly practical. 

Angela scrounged up another treatment to try, to see if they could return his sleep to a more practical routine. She expressed concern about the long term repercussions of only ever getting a few hours of sleep at a time. Gabriel took the pills...and tucked them away in his bathroom. He felt better than he had in months. He was no longer exhausted, his head felt clearer, and most importantly the walls had stopped bleeding at random intervals. He wasn’t eager to go back to trying to fix things. 

_Besides, what if she is compromised?_

He tried to dismiss the thought. She was the one who suggested a brief reprieve from treatment to begin with. 

_Mr. Warren led you astray, giving up his own agents to win your trust. Angela’s brilliant. That kind of manipulation would be child’s play to a prodigy like her._

Whatever Gabriel’s motives. The pills remained unswallowed. 

Jack’s sporadic visits were always a pleasure. Though Morrison started to give him a hard time after the first few. Apparently he felt like Reyes was grilling him for a full status briefing before they would get to talk about anything else, or share more than a greeting kiss. Reyes couldn’t help it. Not being in on the action was driving him mad. 

Regardless, all his stress and worries seemed to melt away when he spent time in Jack’s arms. He didn’t have to think about his possibly compromised men. He didn’t have to consider the possibility that Dr. Ziegler was trying to poison him or some other far fetched theory. He could just close his eyes and sink into Jack’s warmth and scent and feel fully…

_Distracted._

Contented. Contented and complete. He hurled the niggling suspicions out of his mind with far more vitriol and determination when they came up about Jack than he did when he suspected Angela. It was just too horrifying a notion to be true. 

There was almost no follow up after Mr. Warren’s death. It seemed Gabriel became a suspect due to the skill involved breaking into the apartment, and finding a few trace indications of his presence on their DNA scanners. However, since Mr. Warren and Reyes did meet for business regularly, including Reyes having handed over physical files and ridden in the man’s car, it was easy enough to explain away. Hell, considering the precautions he’d taken breaking in, there was a good chance those sources did explain the DNA traces. There hadn’t been any particularly damning evidence, so Morrison’s lie went unquestioned. 

It ate at Gabriel a little. That Jack was able to figure everything out on the fly. To lie so convincingly. Morrison had always been a skillful bullshitter. But somehow that fact didn’t make Reyes feel any better. 

At the end of the month, Reyes resumed his duties like nothing had ever happened. Angela didn’t clear him, and in fact ordered him not to, at which point he casually suggested she try to stop him. She backed off, a faint look of fear flickering across her features after the exchange. 

Once he started up command again he began slowly, quietly ridding Blackwatch of the individuals who garnered the most suspicion. He blamed shoddy performance, group synergy problems, personal conflicts, any legitimate reason he could to fire them without raising too much suspicion. He expressed an interest in getting some new blood in the ranks, though failed to find anyone to replace them. Fortunately few were acquainted enough with Blackwatch’s inner workings to truly question what he was doing. 

He tried to share his concerns with Jack. He didn’t show him the full list, suspecting that Morrison would not appreciate seeing his own name on it, but even what he shared Jack was quick to dismiss. He seemed unwilling to believe so many were compromised. Unwilling to even consider that some of his most trusted men could be working against him, even after everything that happened. Reyes was frustrated at the man’s bull-headedness. And simultaneously in the back of his mind the sharp claws of paranoia and distrust started to take hold. Morrison was too smart to just dismiss all of this out of hand. Why couldn’t he see? 

One night, a few months later, Gabriel lay in bed after a rather boisterous and exhausting round of lovemaking. The two were dozing together when Jack got up to use the washroom. Reyes didn’t think anything of it, at first, barely waking when Jack left. Though after he heard the toilet flush there was a pause. Much longer than he would have expected. He sat up quietly in bed, listening. 

After a time he heard the quiet but distinct _thump_ of his medicine cabinet bouncing closed. The hinges were a little finicky; it was almost impossible to close it quietly. Gabriel tossed the blankets off, strode to the door and burst in without warning. Jack about jumped out of his skin, eyes going wide. He stood in his boxers, clutching the full bottle of sleeping pills Gabriel hadn’t been taking. Caught red handed.

“Gabe! You scared the shit out of me!”

“What. Are you doing,” Reyes growled as Jack started flushing red, looking between the bottle and Gabriel’s livid expression. 

“I- it’s not what it looks like! Gabe, calm down-”

“ _What._ Are you doing?” Reyes repeated, his words dripping barely restrained anger. Jack’s brow furrowed as he set the pill bottle down on the edge of the sink, studying Gabriel’s face. 

“Look, Angela was worried about you, _I’m_ worried about you…”

“So you dig through my medicine cabinet?”

“She thought maybe you hadn’t been taking-”

“ _Leave,_ ” Gabriel stepped out of the doorway, picking up Jack’s discarded clothes and throwing them at him. “Get dressed and go.”

“Gabe, come on. Can’t we talk about this?” Jack pleaded, awkwardly catching the garments as Gabe launched them at him. 

“Where was that sentiment before you started rooting through my shit?”

“What, so you could lie to me about it first?” Jack snapped back, though as soon as the words were out of his mouth a flicker of horror came across his face, while Reyes’ glare deepened. “Gabe I’m sorry…”

“Lying isn’t my first reflex…” _Unlike you._ Gabriel didn’t even have to say the second part for the message to carry loud and clear. 

“Well you’ve been lying to Angela-”

“Get. Out. I don’t want to see your face right now. Put on your clothes and leave. Or I’ll throw you out in your boxers.”

Jack relented, hastily pulling his clothes on before reluctantly making his way towards the door. “Gabe...can’t we please just talk?”

“Out,” Reyes grumbled, sitting heavily on the bed, eyes fixed on the floor. His anger was quickly draining away, replaced by piercing sadness and betrayal, sapping him of all of his energy.

“Okay...okay. I’ll give you some time. We’ll talk in the morning? I’m sorry…”

Gabriel didn’t look up as the door clicked shut. He sat in silence listening, waiting as Jack lingered outside his room. It was a while before he heard Jack’s feet pace off down the hall. He heaved a heavy sigh. He probably was overreacting. Being unreasonable. But he felt like he’d swallowed a brick, his hands shaking ever so slightly. How could Jack just invade his privacy like that? He hadn’t even asked Gabriel about his medication first- not that it would excuse his actions if he had. It showed a lack of trust. It made Gabriel wonder if his own trust was misplaced. 

For as long as Reyes knew him, Morrison always had something of a problem with the truth. He was just such a good liar and had so much charm he always got away with it. Almost always. He was usually better with friends, and Gabriel assumed their relationship was different. He hadn’t caught Jack lying to him in years. But maybe it was ignorant to think a leopard could change his spots like that.

Or maybe he was overreacting. He hadn’t really caught Jack in a lie, just caught him being sneaky. Though really was there much of a difference?

Jack didn’t come talk to him the next morning. Another emergency, another mission. He did send a handful of messages, asking how Reyes was doing, checking up on him, but they were all vague. They were still both paranoid about their relationship going public, despite Jack’s disclosures to the investigators. 

Weeks turned to months with Gabriel and Jack barely laying eyes on each other. Disaster after disaster hit Overwatch, consuming all of their time. Fallen agents, high scale security details defeated, tech stolen. Worst of all were a few incidents that ended in numerous civilian casualties. Protests had been rumbling under the surface for a while, but after that they started showing up in force. They were so busy dealing with one calamity after another that even their weekly meetings were forgotten. 

It wasn’t too long until Reyes made up his mind. Once he’d purged all the agents he suspected, he began withdrawing Blackwatch entirely. He wouldn’t lose another agent to Overwatch’s compromised state and Morrison’s blind refusal to see...assuming Jack wasn’t complicit in all of it. 

The possibility clawed at Gabriel’s mind. If it were anyone else running Overwatch, behaving the way Jack did, making the decisions he did, Reyes wouldn’t trust him for a second. He had all of the possible connections anyone would need, he could operate with virtual impunity. He could ignore warning signs and promote traitors without raising any eyebrows. He was promoted to lead Overwatch _instead of_ Reyes. If the corruption ran as deep as Gabriel suspected in the UN, they obviously wouldn’t want Reyes in charge. But it was _Jack_. It just wasn’t possible. 

The withdrawal began slowly. He sent his agents out on missions and didn’t have them return to Overwatch headquarters when they were through, or any of the official Overwatch affiliated outposts. There were a few Blackwatch safe houses that had been curated through the years Reyes relied on instead. Soon all of his agents were out and safe. No contact with Athena, no UN supplied tech. He slowly cut communications to all but a few highly secure devices. The idea had always been for Blackwatch to operate independently. Well, now they were certainly independent. 

The agents were nervous about these new changes, but they came back from missions _alive_. Gabriel knew he had made the right decision.

***

McCree heaved a long sigh as he stared into the surprisingly empty refrigerator. There was a six pack of beer, some suspiciously old take out containers crammed in the very back corner...salad and vegetables. No real food. Jesse scowled, all he wanted a late night snack. How was this the first time in literally months there was no cold pizza? 

McCree nearly leapt out of his boots when he closed the refrigerator, only to reveal Hana behind the door, leaning against the counter, arms tucked behind her back, eye narrow, watching him. His hand flicked to his hip out of sheer reflex, fortunately he wasn’t armed.

“Hana! Don’t go sneakin’ up on a guy like that! Damnit…”

She smirked up at him, unable to keep a straight face after getting such a dramatic reaction. She tilted her head slightly. “Sorry,” she said, in quite possibly the least believable tone McCree had ever heard. “Fareeha finished off the pizza.”

McCree rolled his eyes. “Figures. Woman’s a human trash compactor.”

Hana chuckled, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, but I can’t keep up with her workout routine, can you?” 

McCree barked out a laugh. “Not even close.”

Hana nodded and revealed what she’d had tucked away behind her back: a full bag of potato chips. “I got these for you.”

McCree’s eyes lit up. Sour cream and onion. His favorite. Though he paused as Hana held out the bag, wagging it invitingly. “Why do I feel like I’m bein’ bribed?”

She grinned cheekily. “Because you are.”

“Alright. Spill. What’re you after…” 

“Everyone says you were in Blackwatch,” Hana started, McCree frowned. He already didn’t like where this was going. “I want to know what happened to Gabe back during Overwatch. What happened between him and Morrison? What happened with him and you too. Your side of the story. You left, right?”

McCree shook his head with another weary sigh. He opened the refrigerator back up and snagged one of the beers. He was going to need it. He grabbed the bag of chips and gestured with the beer towards the table. Hana nodded with a smile, practically skipping forward, triumphant.

“Now, I can’t tell you what happened with Reyes and Morrison...Or what led to that explosion. But I can tell you there was some stuff goin’ on before all that,” he cracked open his beer with a sigh, shaking his head. “I don’t believe that story that goes ‘round ‘bout how Gabe was just jealous ‘n crazy for a second. But towards the end he was actin’ a lil’ odd.”

McCree settled into his seat and Hana leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin propped up in her hands, listening eagerly. She’d been going through the old guard one by one trying to dig their stories out of them. McCree knew it was only a matter of time until she got around to him. Her strange rapport with Reaper seemed to have given her some drive to try and unravel the mystery none of them had been able to solve. Then again, until they found out who Reaper was, no one really had a motive to try. 

“I was…” McCree trailed off, he was about to say ‘young and stupid’ but realized Hana was probably younger than he was at the time. Though who could remember. “I was inexperienced. When the leadership got shifty in the Deadlocks you got the hell outa dodge, because there was gonna be blood. I think that’s still how my brain was operatin’. ‘S no excuse, I shouldn’ta left when I did. But I did.”

Hana tore open the bag of chips, stealing one for herself before scooting them across the table at McCree. He chuckled, grabbing his own handful. 

“The leadership was getting shifty?” Hana prompted.

McCree took a swig of his beer, frowning. “Yeah. You’ve heard ‘bout how missions kept goin’ sideways? ‘N that one fella gettin’ murdered, execution style?” McCree said, making the appropriate finger gun motion for the murder. Hana winced and nodded. “Reyes got put on some sorta medical leave during the height of everythin’ goin’ wrong. Never found out why. Everyone was real hush-hush ‘bout it. But I swear havin’ him gone just made everythin’ ten times worse. Felt like every damn mission was a disaster. Then when he came back? Started shit-cannin’ agents left ‘n right. Couldn’t see any rhyme or reason for it. People started talkin’, wonderin’ who’d get the axe next.”

Hana leaned forward, eyes wide, this was apparently new information. “Did you think you were going to be fired?”

“Nah,” McCree said around a mouthful of chips. “I knew I wasn’t gonna get cut. Most of ‘em couldn’t pick out a pattern in what Reyes was doin’? I could. At least I thought I could. He recruited me outa the Deadlocks, right? Jail or Blackwatch- I mean, wasn’t much of a choice. But still, I was grateful. ‘N I was loyal. There were some other folks like me in the ranks. Not necessarily all ‘jail or Blackwatch’, mind. But...seemed like the longer your rap sheet the less likely Gabe was to kick ya. Didn’t say anythin’ because I didn’t want to start shit. But anyone Reyes recruited himself? He kept. A bunch of the straight laced military guys with sparklin’ records though? Gone.

“Made me kinda nervous. Didn’t know what he was up to, seemed like he was tryin’ to narrow the ranks to the more...morally compromised agents. Which couldn’ta been a sign of anythin’ good. Then he started pullin’ us outa Overwatch HQ, and severin’ as many ties with ‘em as he could. Couple of the former Blackwatch agents got absorbed into Overwatch. Think they started spreadin’ rumors ‘bout Reyes bein’ nuts.” McCree leaned forward, conspiratorially, as if even all these years later he still didn’t want the others to overhear. Hana leaned forward in kind, glancing around the kitchen. “Funny thing was? Missions started bein’ successful again. Agents stopped dyin’. In Blackwatch at least. I didn’t know what to make of it. None of us did. We just trusted Reyes. Blackwatch’d always been loyal. But after that? Shit. He coulda probably asked the remaining agents to jump offa cliff and we would’ve.”

“So then why’d you leave?” Hana asked, her brow furrowed as she processed McCree’s story. He had to wonder how different it was from the tales she’d heard from the rest of the Overwatch members. McCree heaved yet another sigh. 

“Not long after Reyes had his medical leave Morrison approached me. He knew Reyes trusted me. And he wanted me to keep an eye on him. Quietly. ‘N report back to him if I noticed anythin’. I uh. Was none too pleased with that. Sure, Gabe was my boss, but Morrison was head of Overwatch and I was some thug. He didn’t say it, but we both knew he could make my life hell if I didn’t follow his orders.”

“ _Jack_ wanted you to spy for him?” Hana hissed out in a loud whisper, glancing around the kitchen again. McCree saw when she tried to get a story out of Morrison, and met a complete stonewall. Considering what McCree knew, this didn’t surprise him in the slightest. Though knowing what McCree knew back then also made Jack’s request far more complicated. Keeping an eye on an agent during troubled times was one thing. Keeping an eye on someone’s lover was another. McCree had no idea which he was supposed to be doing.

“Don’t get me wrong. I think Morrison’s a good guy, in the end. ‘M not sure why he wanted me spyin’. I’m guessin’ he was worried. After the medical leave ‘n such? But shit. Just felt wrong. Like I was stuck between a rock ‘n a hard place. I couldn’t betray Reyes like that, but couldn’t jeopardize myself either. And while mission’s ‘d been goin’ good, the level of devotion the agents had to Reyes was. Unsettlin’. I mean. He was like family to me. I owed him. But I wasn’t blind. Somethin’ wasn’t right. What if he _was_ compromised and just gatherin’ his most loyal followers before he took us all off the deep end? I mean I didn’t necessarily think that was true. But that level of blind devotion just...It was… Nothin’ seemed right. I didn’t know what to do. So I split…” He shook his head slowly, picking at the label of his beer with his fingernail. “Wish I hadn’t. But…” He shrugged, taking a long drink.

Thinking about the night he left still made McCree sick. He’d been anxious for weeks before he finally made up his mind to leave. Whatever was happening, he couldn’t conceive of any way he’d come out of it with his freedom and his life, at least not without betraying Reyes or something equally awful. If he ever got caught, he’d go to jail, there was no doubt. It was a hard sell for Reyes to convince the authorities to keep him out of prison… if he deserted all bets were off. But Jesse had eluded the police for a long time, and now with his Blackwatch training, he should be even better at it.

They had completely withdrawn from Overwatch by that point. He and a portion of Blackwatch, including Reyes himself, were stationed in an old, half destroyed military base in Germany. Most of what stood after the Omnic crisis were just some warehouses. It hadn’t been used for much more than storage of equipment until Blackwatch descended on it recently.

McCree packed what few belongings he cared about and a spare change of clothes into a duffle bag and quietly made his way to one of the warehouses. It was the middle of the night, everyone was either asleep or on a mission, letting him slip through the grounds undetected. Or so he hoped. 

Jimmying the lock to get inside the warehouse was simple enough. It never ceased to amaze Jesse how useful the skills gained in his criminal background proved to be. Once inside he moved to one of the cars sitting in storage and jimmied it as well. The keys for all of the equipment were too secure to risk taking. But he wasn’t just an adept lock pick: knew how to hotwire too. He tossed his duffle bag in the back seat, cracked open the dash, and within five minutes the hover thrusters engaged and the car lifted off the ground with a contented hum.

McCree took a moment to steady his nerves, resting his hands on the wheel before he realized there was no way to open the garage door from inside the car. He swallowed thickly. The doors were loud, but he had no choice. Once they were open and he was back in the car he’d be gone. Though he forgot to figure out where the door controls were… He got out of the car and gazed around the dark garage with a scowl.

“McCree. What the hell are you doing,” a voice rumbled from the darkness. McCree’s blood ran cold. Reyes. Why was he awake? Stupid question, that man was always awake...McCree turned slowly. Reyes leaned against the far wall, next to a series of large red buttons, surely the door controls. McCree winced. He looked tired, slumped, arms folded as he frowned at Jesse. 

“Oh. Y’know. Just restless. Figured I’d go out and uh...Get some...air?” Jesse offered weakly. 

“And you had to pack your things and steal a car to do that.”

“Well...I mean…” McCree scrambled for an answer. He was so afraid of this possibility he hadn’t actually planned for it, and instead just pretended it couldn’t possibly happen. He swallowed again. “Y’know. Change of scenery?”

Reyes ran a hand over his face, shaking his head slowly. He dug into the pocket of his sweatpants and tossed a small black box to McCree. The young man caught it, blinking.

“It’s an emergency transponder. Nothing more than a brick till you activate it. No GPS or anything. But it’ll give you a line to us if you need. In an emergency.”

Jesse looked down at the transponder, turning it over in his palm a few times before looking back up at Gabriel, speechless. 

“Take care of yourself, Jesse…” Reyes said, before slamming his fist into one of the red buttons. The garage door let out a groan and started rattling its way open. 

“I-I will...Boss…” McCree called as Reyes disappeared into the darkness. Jesse climbed into the car, his hands shaking harder than they had before, his vision going blurry with tears as his throat clenched. He blinked stubbornly, slammed the car into reverse, and sped off into the night.

***

The jet set down with a rough, grinding thump that would have worried Reyes in any other circumstances. He jolted out of the pilot’s seat, flagging his ragged handful of agents forward. They all took off sprinting towards the entrance of the Swiss Headquarters, Gabriel quick on their heels.

Reyes’ ongoing attempts to counter-hack Talon finally bore fruit. He managed to intercept a garbled transmission about the Swiss base and explosives. Unfortunately he wasn’t able to get much information past that, and his intrusion had been detected. He tried to contact Overwatch and warn them about the possible plot, but discovered all methods of communication suddenly jammed. He couldn’t even contact the reception desk. 

He left his most tech savvy agent behind to keep trying, and loaded up everyone else he had on hand into the jet to go warn the base personally. The small group touched down within an hour. Reyes breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the building still standing.

What made the whole situation worse was Reyes knew Jack was stationed there for the moment. He’d sent Gabriel a few, almost pleading messages to come visit him. They’d barely laid eyes on each other since their fight. Reyes was more than ready to forgive Morrison’s stupid indiscretion, but they’d just been so damn busy. 

The time apart also made the nagging voice of paranoia in Reyes’ head grow steadily louder. He just had to trust Jack. Even if he was in the absolute best position to sabotage everything, and Reyes’ men had stopped dying since they’d been apart.

The agents scattered down their different paths, to try and make contact with different agents and officials within the building and start an evacuation, while Reyes made his way down to the armory. He suspected from the garbled message they were hiding the explosives in plain sight down there. 

The lights were on in the armory, but the space was eerily quiet. Reyes pulled out his gun, and an EM scanner as he crept forward. As he rounded a stack of munitions he spotted Jack, clad in his blue coat, hands on his hips, leaning over a closed crate. 

“Morrison,” Gabriel barked. Jack jumped, and spun to face him. He spotted the gun well before he saw who was pointing it at him. He went rigid, raising his hands in surrender. His eyes darted between the gun and Reyes’s face, with a look of complete bewilderment.

“Gabe! Christ! What- why are you pointing a gun at me!?” Jack said, his voice nearly cracking, sounding uncharacteristically frazzled. It seemed like one of the rare occasions he was actually caught so off guard even his calculated facade was left in the dust.

Seeing Morrison in the exact location Reyes expected to find a bomb felt like the confirmation of all of his worst fears. Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath, feeling like he’d just been stabbed in the chest. “So it’s true then, you have just been fucking with me this whole time…”

“What are you talking about? Gabe...Lower your gun. Please.”

Gabriel felt his hands shaking slightly. He tightened his grip to steady them. “How long have you been working with them? Is that why they gave Overwatch to you? Was...Distracting me, pretending you loved me me part of your plan all along? Or just convenient?”

“What? No! Gabe! I love you- I don’t know what…” Jack said, an edge of pleading panic in his voice as he stared at Reyes. “Gabe-Gabriel...I love you. I swear. I don’t know what you’re trying to say…”

“Then what are you doing down here?” 

“I...I discovered there was an unauthorized delivery down here. Agent Solano acted like it was no big deal, and- I don’t know. I think your paranoia’s rubbing off on me. I decided to come check it out myself,” Jack babbled out, the words nearly tripping over each other in his haste to explain. He looked so open, desperate...scared. Jack was a skilled actor, but he wasn’t _that_ good.

Gabriel nodded and sighed, lowering his gun. Jack visibly sagged with relief. “Shit, Jack. I’m sorry…”

“What-”

“I have reason to believe there’s a bomb down here.”

Morrison blinked. “Gabe. It’s an armory, of course there’s-” he blinked again, when Reyes just stared at him. “Oh... Oh!” Jack stumbled away from the crate, pointing at it. “That’s the unauthorized- you think it’s a bomb?”

Reyes scowled down at his sensor, tweaking the sensitivity. If the explosives operated off a remote detonator he should be able to find something. Unless it was just a timer…”Maybe-”

_Crack!_

Both men jumped back at the sound. For a few long moments neither saw anything, just heard a quiet hiss. Then flames erupted out the back of another container pressed up against the far wall. The two exchanged quick, panicked glances before bursting into motion. Jack tore off his coat and rushed forward trying to smother the flames, while Gabriel ran for a fire extinguisher. 

He aimed the hose at the quickly spreading fire, prompting Jack to back away from his thus far failed smothering efforts. He squeezed the trigger. 

Nothing happened. 

Gabriel frantically looked over the fire extinguisher, eyes wide, and smacked it a few times. “What the hell!”

Alarms started blaring as the smoke finally set off the fire detection system. With a metallic groan, the armory emergency blast doors started grinding closed. The two sprinted for the exit.

“Athena! Hold the doors! There’s people in the armory!” Jack yelled. He reached the doors well in advance of Gabriel, skidding to a stop in the hallway. He grabbed one half of the rapidly closing steel doors and braced his foot against the other to try and hold them open. But he was no match for the hydraulics, which narrowed the gap despite his efforts, forcing him out of the doorway before Gabriel could catch up. 

“Agent! Get on the manual override!” Jack called down the hall as Reyes reached the door. He also grabbed at it, trying to force it open in sheer desperation. It was too narrow to fit through. But there was no overpowering it. He locked eyes with Jack, seeing the terror in his face. “Gabe, we’ll get you out, hang on!” The door closed with a low boom.

Reyes scrambled for the manual override on his side of the blast doors. He ripped off panel, revealing where the handle should have been. It was gone, sawed off to a tiny unusable stump. Someone sabotaged it. Someone sabotaged the fire extinguisher. Athena wasn’t responding for some reason. This had all been a trap…

Gabriel felt numb as he staggered away from the door, coughing as smoke began rapidly filling the room. He held his sleeve over his mouth in a futile attempt to filter the air, his eyes stinging and watering as he looked around. The fire was spreading rapidly, far more rapidly than should have been possible in the carefully maintained armory. Loud cracks and bangs started going off as the heat reached the munitions. 

He turned to the security sensors, waving at them wildly. But he knew it was futile. If the saboteurs were this thorough those were disabled too. It was no wonder Athena didn’t respond, assuming they hadn’t compromised her programming as well.

Reyes’ lungs burned as he staggered away from the fire, making his way to the corner of the room, as far away from the blaze as he could. He fell to his knees, coughing and gasping. He always assumed he’d die with his boots on. But not like this…

Tears streamed from his stinging eyes, and it wasn’t just from the smoke. His thoughts wheeled to Jack, his desperate call, the terror in his eyes. He wish he had said something, hoped to hear those doors miraculously creaking open. But Gabriel knew. He was going to die here. Pointlessly suffocating in a trap. Helpless and alone. 

Everything began to spin as more and more smoke and toxic gasses filled Gabriel’s lungs. He doubled over, throat burning. As darkness finally overtook him, after facing death so many times on the battlefield, Gabriel was surprised to realize...

He was afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Yay! The semester is over! Break time! I plan on finishing this within the next few weeks. Though I will stagger the chapters out a little. For reasons. But the updates will be much faster than what they've been lately! (11's nearly done already, woo!)  
> -Thank you guys for your support! I really appreciate the comments and kudos!  
> -Also shit's gettin' real now.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is claustrophobia TW a thing? If it is you have been warned. Also a heads up, parts of this get a little horror-ie. Enjoy!

A scattered mixture of German and English started drifting into Gabriel’s awareness. It took a long while for his head to clear enough to make any of it out. Angela. It was Dr. Zeigler’s voice, and probably some nurse. He survived, somehow. Against all odds. Maybe Jack got the door open after he fell unconscious? 

Gabriel tried to open his eyes, but was distraught to discover he couldn't. He couldn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t even control his breathing. Was he even breathing? Surely. Everything felt tingly and numb. He tried to remain calm, maybe he’d just come out from surgery. Some sort of anesthetic hadn’t worn off yet. Yes, the anesthesiologist probably just made a mistake, surely he wasn’t the only injured party after that inferno. The infirmary was probably packed. Or it should be.

It was strangely quiet for the infirmary. The way Angela’s footsteps echoed it almost sounded completely empty, wherever he was. He didn’t hear the beeps and hums he would expect from monitoring equipment, especially if he was still in surgery. Even just being monitored in bed he would expect a little something more. And it was cold. The sheet covering him wasn’t nearly enough to keep him comfortable.

“ _Verdammt!_ ” Angela hissed nearby, her voice strained and raw, accompanied by what Gabriel assumed was the frustrated slam of her fist on a table.

“Dr. Zeigler. Angela...Sweetie…” An unfamiliar older, feminine voice cooed. “Honey...it’s okay. You did everything you could. He’s just been dead too long. Come. It’s a minor miracle we even found his body intact considering…”

“But I got a reading! I swear I did!” Dr. Zeigler said, her voice thick with tears. Gabriel strained to hear anything else from the room. Surely he wasn’t alone in there. They couldn’t be talking about him, right?

“I know, Honey, I saw it too. It was probably just a feedback error. I’ve seen you work miracles. You’re brilliant. But some things are just beyond our reach. Oh, come here…”

Angela’s muffled sobs echoed quietly around the room. “How did this happen? I can’t believe…”

“I know Sweetie, I know. We lost some good people. Some great people...but you also saved so many, don’t forget that, Angela.”

The room was quiet, aside from Angela’s choked tears. Slowly she started to regain her composure, earning a gentle pat from the older woman. 

“Let’s get some rest, okay? Come on...let’s get out of this depressing place.”

With that two sets of footsteps started moving away. The lights went off with a click, leaving the world even darker behind Gabriel’s still firmly closed eyes. The room was silent. Or almost silent. All Reyes could hear was a faint whirr, somewhere. A compressor? It sounded like a refrigeration unit. That’s when cold terror finally started creeping in, crawling up from his toes, taking hold of every inch. The morgue. He was in the morgue. 

He redoubled his previously abandoned attempts to move. Open his eyes. Anything. He wanted to flail, scream. _Angela come back! I’m not dead! I’m not!_ The effort was exhausting, yet yielded virtually no results. It was like he was encased in stone. No amount of struggling could get him anywhere. Eventually he felt it, he managed to move a toe, just the tiniest bit. He silently prayed that one of Angela’s monitoring devices was still hooked up. Maybe it would register something. 

Exhaustion from Reyes’ fruitless struggles started to build. After a time, maybe mere minutes, maybe hours, he couldn’t tell, it became too much. Unconsciousness slowly overtook him. 

***

“Hey Lucio, come check this out,” Hana said in a loud whisper, flagging him down to the far end of the lab. Reaper was still trapped in his cage, curled up on the floor, though he appeared to finally be asleep for the first time in two days. Lucio had begun playing a song in the lab, something of a work in progress that was supposed to aid in relaxation. It was effective, for Hana at least, and probably for Reaper. That and the near fistful of sedatives Lucio finally convinced him to take. Reaper conceded he was exceedingly hard to medicate, working out a dosage with his bizarre new biology was no simple matter. They kept the fact that they consulted Angela to work out a likely dosage quiet. He seemed to be better when she wasn’t around. Or mentioned.

The fact that he was now avoiding the bed was also a little bizarre, but out of his various idiosyncratic behaviors since waking, that was the least of Hana’s concerns. She felt bad watching him sleep on the floor like that, and at least wanted to get him a blanket, but at the same time didn’t want to risk disturbing him.

“Man, the melody’s not quite right. Some of the vibrations are off…” Lucio muttered as he drifted away from his computer console to join Hana. He’d been trying to perfect his song all afternoon.

“It’s fine. Any more chill and I’d be asleep on the keyboard,” Hana whispered back with a quiet giggle. “But check this out… Athena has some of the files from the initial UN investigation into the Swiss base explosion. Classified stuff.”

“You’re really determined to figure this out, aren't you? What makes you think you can succeed where an entire investigation committee failed?” Lucio said, hands on his hips, his voice thick with skepticism but not unkind. Hana winked at him.

“Because I have access to two key witnesses they didn’t.”

“Didn’t Morrison already blow you off?”

“Yeah. But if I corner him with some specific questions I think he’ll have a hard time weaseling out,” Hana said with a firm nod, scrolling through the file. “No one else has been evasive like that…” she hesitated, frowning. “Except Dr. Zeigler but she’s just a mess. Anyway. He’s hiding something. I’m sure of it.”

“Hey, check it out, a video file…” Lucio pointed at the screen as Hana scrolled through the dozens of eyewitness reports, lab results, and analyses. “Look at the time signature. That must have been right before…”

Hana clicked on the file eagerly. Both she and Lucio leaned away from the screen in surprise at what popped up. Wide angle, low quality security camera footage, showing a room stacked with shelves, crates and boxes, and the unmistakable figures of Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison standing off to one side. Gabriel was leveling a gun at Jack, who had his hands in the air. They seemed to be talking, but their faces were too indistinct to make out words.

“The hell…?” Hana muttered, blinking at the scene, before emitting an outraged squeal as the footage suddenly started to shard, then went black. She mashed the fast forward button as the black stretched on, the video had nearly thirty minutes left to go. 

When the image returned the scene had changed entirely. Flames licked up the wall and smoke was beginning to fill the room, while Reyes was waving at the security camera. After a few moments be backed away, doubled over coughing, retreating to the back of the room where he crumpled to the floor.

“Oh man...I don’t wanna watch this,” Lucio muttered, half covering his eyes with his hands, but peering between his fingers despite himself. Hana cringed.

“Yeah…Me neither,” she hit the fast forward. The scene didn’t change much, other than spreading flames and more smoke, until Gabriel’s indistinct form grew still, and the flames finally reached the camera.

“Well. That was. Unpleasant,” Lucio murmured, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’d ask how he’s still alive after that but…” He shrugged, gesturing helplessly to their patient. “Honestly I’m not even sure how he exists in general…”

Hana nodded, closing the depressing video. “Yeah that was...Well. Now I have something to corner Morrison with. What was that first part about? How’d it...go from that to. Fire?”

“You sure about doin’ that?” Lucio said in an even more hushed tone than they’d been using so far, “I mean...Whatever happened there couldn’t have been good…”

“Why not? You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?”

“No! I mean, I don’t know? It just…” Lucio sighed. “I got your back, whatever...just be careful.” 

“Keep an eye on Gabe for me, will you? Let me know when he wakes up.”

Lucio chuckled quietly. “On a first name basis now?”

Hana just winked, “he wasn’t big on ‘Reapsie’ as an alternative,” she said as she skipped out of the room.

Some of the Overwatch members referred to Reaper as a wraith. In Hana’s opinion that title also fit Jack Morrison quite well. He always seemed so charming and confident in the old news footage. With a disarming smile and a witty remark always at the ready. The Morrison Hana knew barely said a word to anyone outside of work, and ghosted through the halls, seemingly avoiding contact whenever possible. Before they’d captured Reaper he’d been mildly more personable, but now he was just impossible. 

It took a bit of hunting before Hana finally located Jack down in the shooting range. He glanced over his shoulder with a nod of acknowledgment before going back to his target practice. It wasn’t until Hana pulled up a folding chair to watch that he finally paused, lowering his gun. He turned to her, an eyebrow raised.

“Can I...help you, Miss Song?”

Hana straddled the chair backwards, drumming her fingers on the backrest with a cheeky grin. “Just figured I’d watch! Hear you’re a pretty good sharp shooter with that thing. Thought maybe I could pick up some pointers.”

Jack shifted his weight onto one hip, resting the rifle on his shoulder, scowling down at Hana, not believing her for a second. “Right.” When Hana just grinned at him in reply he went back to his target practice. When Hana didn’t leave, he eventually turned to her again. “You know, you probably should be wearing hearing protection if you’re going to stay here.”

“Your pulse rifle's not too loud though. You know, I’ve always wanted to try shooting it. Can I?” Hana asked, her grin never subsiding. Jack frowned.

“...It’s as big as you are.”

Hana scoffed. “Please. I’m probably...at least twice its size.”

At that, Morrison actually cracked a smile and chuckled. Hana had begun to wonder if such a thing was even possible. She beamed at him.

“But why?”

Hana shrugged. “It’s a neat, high tech piece of weaponry. I love high tech weaponry. I wanna see how it fires.”

Jack sighed, flicked on the safety, and held the rifle to Hana. “Sure. Why not…” 

Hana squealed and hopped up from her chair, clapping her hands excitedly. “It’s been ages since I used an assault rifle!” She exclaimed, eagerly snatching the gun from 76. It was lighter than she expected, though that wasn’t saying much. Jack gave her some pointers as she tried to peer down the sights, highlighting where it was different from a normal assault rifle. Hana worked to maintain a straight face as he did, he sounded like he was schooling a cadet. Though the whole scene must have bordered on absurd looking; the gun was far too large to be practical for her to use.

“Just. Be careful. It’s a powerful weapon. It has a lot of kick. Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, taking a few steps back as Hana finally disengaged the safety.

Hana chuckled at his tone. “Don’t worry, _Dad_. I’ve got this.” She lined up her shot, then paused. “Hey! Could you take a picture of me shooting it? For my blog! My fans would love to see this!”

“No.”

Hana laughed, not surprised by the answer. “Fine, fine…” She braced herself, and squeezed the trigger for a short burst fire. She was prepared for enough recoil to send her halfway across the room, and was pleasantly surprised when all three bullets actually hit the target (albeit not particularly well clustered) and she didn’t end up on her rear or anything too dramatic. Still, she wasn’t going to trade in her pistol any time soon.

“Heh, not bad…” Jack said. Hana thanked him, and let loose a few more bursts, getting progressively more controlled as she got used to the weapon, though none of her shots were great. The gun was just too awkward.

Eventually Hana handed the rifle back, admiring its relatively light weight and shock absorption. She and 76 began discussing the finer points of the gun’s technology, talking about the innovations it had, and what improvements it still sorely needed that Jack discovered since acquiring it. It was the most conversation Hana had ever gotten out of the man. It seemed he was capable of being friendly on occasion. 

“It’s an impressive gun. But I think I’ll stick to my mech,” Hana finally concluded. Jack chuckled.

“I don’t blame you. Now that mech is a high tech piece of weaponry…”

“Yeah, but you think your little pulse rifle’s hard to clean? I have to take my baby to the car wash…” Hana quipped, drawing another rare chuckle out of Morrison. 

As the conversation died down, Hana smiled up at the old soldier a little sheepishly. She almost felt bad now, after having what amounted to the first real human interaction with Morrison to date. “So, Jack...there was another reason I came to find you. I wanted to ask you about something.”

Morrison shrugged, looking thoroughly unsurprised. “I figured as much.”

Hana explained what they saw on the security cameras, Morrison sighed, his eye roll visible even through the obstruction of his visor.

“Figures the recording would cut there…” He grumbled, all of the former levity seeming to drain out of him as Hana spoke, turning back into the grumpy, closed off stonewall Hana was accustomed to seeing. He barked his reply like he was issuing a mission briefing. “Reyes encountered me in the armory when he was looking for a bomb, and was initially suspicious. We clarified the situation, but shortly after a small incendiary device planted by an unknown agent went off. The fire suppression systems were sabotaged, and the emergency doors closed. I made it out, Reyes did not. Before I could liberate him, another unknown agent approached from behind and knocked me unconscious.”

Hana grimace. “I’m sorry...that must have been awful.” Morrison only grunted in response, taking aim downrange again. “I guess I’ll leave you to your practice. Sorry to interrupt.”

He nodded sharply. “No problem. And kid…” he glanced over his shoulder, “you have a lot of potential. Don’t squander it all on Overwatch.”

***

Consciousness didn’t return for a long while, at least not fully. Gabriel occasionally heard the faint wisps of voices drifting by. A couple of times he was vaguely aware of being moved, but he didn’t wake up as fully as he had that day with Dr. Zeigler. Finally, after who knew how long, he felt reality come swimming back. It was quiet, and he ached all over, replacing the bizarre, numbness he’d experienced before. He tried experimentally to wiggle his fingers and toes. They worked. 

His eyes fluttered open, only to be met with pitch black. There was no way his room was this dark. Was he blind? Who knew what chemicals could have been released as the armory burned, maybe they’d done some damage. He didn’t savor the idea but at least he was alive. 

He slowly lifted his hand, to experimentally wave it in front of his eyes, when his knuckles bumped against something. It felt like satin. He blinked, feeling next to himself, expecting to find hospital bed railings, and instead being greeted by a firm, cloth covered surface. He began feeling our his surroundings with both hands, walls were tight on either side of him, and a lid… panic began to set in.

A box. He was in a box. A satin lined box.

It was a coffin. 

Gabriel slammed his fists against the lid, and tried to yell, but was greeted with shooting pain in his mouth. His hands fluttered to his face. Was his jaw wired shut? No, it felt wrong. He felt around, discovering crudely twisted wires jammed into his gums, closing his mouth. He ripped them out with a pained grunt, and began yelling in earnest, blood oozing into his mouth.

_This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening!_

The lid didn’t budge an inch. His cries were loud yet muffled. They’d buried him. He clawed at the lid, shredding the satin lining, digging at the wood with his fingers, frantic. Splinters broke off under his nails as he ground his fingers raw against the wood in his blind panic. Finally, Gabriel grew still, clutching his bleeding hands to his chest, trying to steady his frantic, gasping breath.

_This can’t be happening…_

He squeezed his eyes shut, as if somehow not staring into darkness could make it all go away. He choked out a sob. He tried to think through his situation, to calm himself. But there was nothing to think about, nothing to do. Surely soon enough the oxygen would run out and this would all be over, and he’d be dead for good this time. 

There were metals pinned to his chest. Gabriel felt them out with bleeding fingers, a sardonic, bitter laugh bubbling from his throat. Buried in his uniform, with signs of his highest honors pinned to his still living body. Some honor…

Gabriel tried to calm himself, to close his eyes and sleep, hoping to never wake up, but he found himself almost compulsively lashing out at the lid, beating on it, clawing at it until his hands were ground to bloody messes. 

_This can’t be happening…_

***

Angela stared down into her cup of tea, watching the stray particulate that escaped the strainer swirl around the bottom, almost hypnotically. Reinhardt practically forced the brew on her, with a wide friendly smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder. It was an herbal blend, one he created himself. A small wisp of a smile trailed across Angela’s lips, imagining the enormous man delicately measuring out dainty piles of herbs to create the perfect tea. It smelled lovely. Warm and earthy, with just a hint of jasmine. 

She took a sip, her smile growing wider. It smelled much better than it tasted, but it wasn’t bad. She added a pinch of sugar before relocating to the common room and nestling in on the couch. At this point she was willing to do anything to ease her nerves. She considered asking Lucio to pipe his relaxation music through the base’s com system, though probably putting most of Overwatch half asleep wasn’t the best idea. 

“How do you like it?” Reinhardt asked, sipping his own tea with a broad smile, sitting in one of the especially large chairs. 

“The smell is absolutely heavenly, Reinhardt, thank you.”

“Ah, good, good. I always take mine with a little bit of honey. But I wasn’t sure how sweet you like your tea.”

Angela’s smile grew at that. “Actually I put a little sugar in…”

Reinhardt laughed. “Excellent!”

The common room was lively today, at least compared to some days. Reinhardt and Ana sat at one end, having a pleasant quiet chat, while Fareeha, Lena and McCree sat at the table playing poker, piles of bottle caps and pennies serving as chips. Last Angela heard they were playing for chores instead of money.

“Hey!” Hana’s voice chimed behind Angela. Before she could respond, the young woman sprang over the back of the couch and landed across from Mercy, feet tucked under her, already looking comfortable. Angela focused on her cup, trying not to spill at the sudden jostling. Hana chuckled. “Oop, sorry, didn’t see you had a drink.”

“Not to worry. How are you doing, Hana?”

“Good!” Hana said, looking around the room with a faint frown. “So, hey, Angela. I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I mean...we could go somewhere more private if you wanted…” Hana started, the room growing quiet almost immediately. Angela had been expecting this. She was probably the last person on Hana’s list to try and pry a story out of. She was amazed it had taken this long. Everyone else in the room was pretending to mind their own business, and doing an awfully poor job at it. Angela breathed a quiet sigh, raising the tea to her face. She inhaled the lovely, soothing scent, letting her eyes drift closed. She owed these people an explanation. 

“No, no...I know what you want to talk about. And. You all deserve to know. I should have told you from the start. It’s just…” Her vision started to blur with tears as the all too familiar guilt closed in around her. “I’m responsible. For what happened to him. I-” Angela’s voice cracked. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “I don’t know how. I don’t know...what happened. But it’s my fault. After the explosion, when we found his body. He hadn’t been burnt or crushed too badly...He was essentially intact, just asphyxiated. The way the building collapsed around him, he ended up in a protected pocket. So I tried to revive him with a Caduceus prototype. It didn’t work, I thought it didn’t work- I was _sure_ it didn’t work. He. He had no vital signs. No brain activity. I signed off on the death certificate...it’s my fault,” Angela gripped her cup tightly, staring down into it, blinking back her tears.

“Angela…” Ana said softly. “If he had no vital signs, what were you expected to do? He was dead. That’s not your fault…”

Mercy shook her head roughly, squeezing her eyes closed. “You don’t understand. That’s the thing. It _did_ work. It just. Took longer than I realized…”

Eight months after the explosion Dr. Zeigler and one of her nurses found themselves indulging in a bit of “spring cleaning” around the lab. Everything was, of course, meticulously organized, and sterilized, but none the less, after many months of operation a certain level of clutter had developed. They were trying to put everything in order, and make doubly sure every nook and cranny was clean.

The nurse was cleaning a small refrigeration unit used for biological samples. She practically stuffed her head all the way inside before she emerged holding a black vial. 

“Angela, come look at this…” she said, holding the sample up. Angela blinked at it as she approached. “Must have rolled away at some point. It was jammed between the shelf and the back. Who knows how long it’s been there,” the nurse scowled, shaking the vial gently, looking disgusted. “What is it?”

Angela approached curiously, taking the tube. It looked like any other normal sample, except the fluid inside was black and viscous. She furrowed her brow as she read the label, feeling a pang of sadness. A blood sample from Gabriel Reyes. The nurse was right, it must have gotten lost months ago. She blinked at it, baffled. A _blood_ sample? She shook it again curiously, watching the black liquid slide down the sides of the vial. He hadn’t been dead _that_ long. What happened to it?

The two discussed for a moment what could possibly cause the sample to look like that. The refrigeration unit hadn’t failed at any point. The sample had been taken post mortem, during Angela’s sorrowful experiments. Perhaps it had been contaminated somehow. In retrospect her attempt to revive Gabriel bordered on madness. She’d just been so grief stricken. The loss of life after the fire had been staggering. The blaze set off some of the munitions leading to an extremely deadly explosion. Somehow she felt if she could save just _one more_ life maybe she could alleviate some of her sorrow. She hoped with Gabriel’s enhancements, his unique biology would take to the prototype better than others might have. It was a foolish dream, and an arguably sick distraction from her grief.

After a few minutes of speculating, curiosity finally got the best of her, and Angela took a break from her cleaning to prepare a slide of the tainted blood. She expected to find some strange fungal or bacterial contamination, and was shocked to recognize nanites. Hundreds of nanites intermingled with the blood cells. And they were active. She remembered her experiments shockingly well, despite the many months. Nanites were a key factor in her prototype, but she hadn't used this many on him. Something had happened while the blood sat.

The nurse joined her to take a look as well, cocking her head as she peered into the microscope. 

“Weird...are...that looks like there’s still cell division happening? Wait...that’s not possible...”

Angela blinked, nearly pushing her out of the way. “No, that’s not possible. There must just be one that was part-” she cut herself off as she saw what the nurse saw. Angela had seen cells divide under a microscope more times than she could count. She knew what it looked like. And this was like she’d recorded it and then sped up the film. It wasn’t possible, it was happening far too quickly. Not only that it shouldn’t have been happening _at all_.

“I want to say it’s a reaction to something, but what could it possibly react to after months in a cold, dark, anaerobic environment like that? Strange!” The nurse said, ducking back in to look at the slide as Dr. Zeigler backed away, trying to keep the creeping horror from reaching her face.

“Yes. Strange. Ah, excuse me, I think I’m going to take a break. We’ve been at it for a while.”

“Sure thing.”

Angela started making her way casually to her office, then broke into a run once she was out of earshot, slamming the door and locking herself inside when she arrived. She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself. It was just an anomaly with some blood sample. There was no possible way this meant anything. Even if they had left his body in a cold...dark...anaerobic environment. 

Angela scrubbed at her face, and slapped her cheeks a few times, to regain composure. She went to her desk and started looking up names. Surely the blood sample was worth investigating further. Besides, more than a few people owed her favors. Several phone calls later she made arrangements to have Gabriel’s body exhumed. There could be useful information to be found about the Caduceus experiments in his remains.

And she would see he was really, truly dead.

There was simply no possible way he was anything other than dead. Even if he had revived... he would be long dead by now

Still, the very notion filled Angela with so much dread, she was amazed she got through the phone calls with a steady voice. She had to know.

It took a few days before they were scheduled to exhume Gabriel. Angela barely slept a wink, and traveled to the graveyard the evening they scheduled for the digging. Many members of Overwatch were buried there. Even all these months later people still flocked to pay their respects. They had to wait until after the grounds closed.

A hefty pile of flowers sat carefully arranged on a trailer, removed from Gabriel’s grave while the backhoe rolled up. Angela breathed a weary sigh, looking at the pile, and the sprawl of flowers dripping from Morrison’s nearby grave as well. It felt like Overwatch was reviled by the time the explosion happened. It was heartwarming to see so many still cared. 

“Oh, Dr. Zeigler! You didn’t have to come. We have arrangements to transport him to your lab…” the grounds manager said, startling Angela out of her thoughts. She turned to him with a smile.

“I uh. Wanted to be here. I wanted to see-” she replied, cut off abruptly as the backhoe roared to life, and began digging. She shrugged. She didn’t particularly want to explain anyway. 

She stood to the side quietly as the small crew did its work, carefully pulling the casket from the ground. Before the crew could load it onto the transport, Angela marched up. 

“Open it,” she ordered. 

“Uh. Miss? It’s uh...been a bit. It’s not gonna be pretty in there…” one of the men cautioned hesitantly.

Angela glared. “I’m a doctor, I’m quite familiar with what to expect. Now open it.” 

The men looked to the groundskeeper in dismay, the man just shrugged, looking puzzled. The whole crew preemptively grimaced, the ones who didn’t need to use their hands covering their noses with their sleeves in advance. Dr. Zeigler took a deep breath, bracing herself. Once she saw it, her mind could finally be put at ease.

The lid swung open. Angela peered inside.

“The hell…?” one of the workers said, voicing the same thought everyone was having as they gazed inside the empty casket. 

_Empty?_ Angela wasn’t entirely sure what she was expecting. But this wasn’t it.

“I...uh...guys?” One of the workers said, shakily. He stood off to the side, pointing at the lid. 

Angela stepped around to see. The satin lining was torn to shreds, revealing the wood surface underneath. Black ichor was smeared everywhere, along with the unmistakable claw marks left by human hands. There even seemed to be an entire fingernail lodged in the wood. 

A horrified silence fell on the crew as they stared at the damage. Angela’s knees gave out and she crumpled to the grass, clutching her hands over her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. _No. No!_ It was like a nightmare.

Finally one of the workers broke the silence. “Wha...what happened to him?”

They never found an answer. However, a few weeks prior there had been a strange incident. The security cameras recorded an extremely distant and blurry, somewhat unnatural figure appeared near the gravesites. When it had first occurred the crew assumed it was a prank, and it had given rise to a number of tongue in cheek ghost stories. But now it seemed to have a much more sinister explanation, one that made sense to Angela only once she discovered Reaper’s true identity. And it gave Angela a disturbing timeline.

Two hundred and fifteen days. He’d been trapped.

Angela dabbed away her tears in the choking silence of the common room as her story came to an end. She heard the scuff of a boot and someone striding off down the hall. Morrison, she guessed. She hadn’t noticed his arrival. 

The tea was cold, but she took a shaky sip anyway, glancing around the room, at the looks of horror and sympathy. She felt better, finally sharing her burden. The truth that had been eating at her for years. 

“M-maybe if the damn Soldier Enhancement Program had let me get his real, full medical records. Maybe I could have prevented this. Seen it coming. I…” Angela sucked in a breath, trying to maintain her composure. “This is my fault. And I have to make it _right_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Props to JTSkibbles for totally fucking calling it  
> -Seriously you guys have no idea about the shitfit I had when the Halloween patch dropped...That coffin intro. HC confirmed, right? Haah  
> -Thank you all for sticking with me this far!


	12. Chapter 12

Hell. He was in hell. That was the only rational explanation for Gabriel’s situation. Apparently everything he’d been taught growing up was both right and wrong. Hell existed, but it was no strange inferno or icy pit full of wailing sinners and demons, no. It was a tiny damn box in total darkness, forever. He laughed darkly at the madness of it all. It was a fucked up situation indeed when literally being in hell was the _reasonable_ explanation. 

It took a long while for the terror to subside. For a while every time he woke up it would be a renewed fit of flailing and bashing at his prison. But the oxygen never seemed to run out. He felt strange and light headed, but the seemingly inevitable suffocation never came. Then he was sure he’d die of thirst. His throat was raw and parched, and his stomach twisted up in knots over his lack of food, but he didn’t experience the unfortunately familiar symptoms of severe dehydration. It was impossible to gauge time in his prison, but it felt like he’d been down there for an eternity. He knew at least enough time had passed for the onset of dehydration. None of it made any sense. So eventually his mind settled on the supernatural, leaving hell as the natural answer.

He spent a lot of time thinking about everything he’d ever done wrong during his life. Or, whenever he decided there had to be a more scientific explanation for everything, plotting his horrible, bloody revenge on everyone responsible for leaving him buried under six feet of dirt.

His thought often turned to Overwatch. He wondered what became of the Swiss Headquarters after the fire. He wondered who planted that device. He started chronicling ways he could seek out the perpetrators. Ways he could bring down Talon once and for all. It was almost comforting in its own way, planning for the future as if he would ever see the light of day again.

Gabriel’s hell hypothesis faded a little when one day, after what had to have been weeks of silence, he heard a strange rumbling, and grinding. It seemed to come from all around at first, but eventually he narrowed the sound down to his right. A steady, not quite rhythmic scrape and rumble. Eventually he realized what he was hearing: another grave being dug nearby, possibly in the plot next to his. He began yelling and pounding on the sides of his coffin when the noise subsided. He yelled himself hoarse, any time there was any kind of sound. But no one came for him. He was too muffled by the earth.

Hallucinations became a constant companion pretty early on. Sometimes they were a relief, an escape. Sometimes they were more terrifying than being buried alive. Often times they were all too real. Much too real, as his brain scrambled for something to hang onto, some sound, some sight, some stimulus other than this infinite darkness and quiet.

Jack was a frequent star of his hallucinations. Good and bad. He missed him so desperately. There were so many things left unsaid. He should have forgiven the stupid fight weeks before. He should have made an effort to meet up with Jack before it was too late. They shouldn’t have waited so long in the first place…

_”It’s alright. We’re both idiots sometimes…”_ Jack purred from the darkness, his breath warm along Gabriel’s ear. He shivered, Jack’s scent flooding his senses as the hot breath trailed down his neck. A hand began to slide up his shirt, roaming, caressing. Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a moan as teeth began gently nipping at his collarbone.

“Jack…” Gabriel breathed out, opening his eyes. There Jack was, straddling him, leaning over him somehow glowing faintly in the darkness. He smiled, reaching to caress Gabriel’s face, Gabriel returning the gesture, cupping Jack’s cheek. Jack caught his hand and nuzzled into it for a moment before turning to press his lips to Gabriel’s palm. After a few tender kisses a mischievous grin slid onto Jack’s face, his tongue flicking across Gabriel’s hand, before he sucked his fingers into his mouth, licking them suggestively. Gabriel had to stifle another moan, drawing a chuckle from Jack.

”I don’t know why you love that so much,” Jack teased, repeating the shadow of a conversation they had months before.

“I don’t know either…” Gabriel murmured. Jack chuckled softly, dipping low, pressing their lips together in a long, passionate kiss. Gabriel sank into the embrace, his eyes fluttering closed as his lips parted, welcoming, longing. 

When his eyes opened again they were somewhere else, though Jack still took up most of his field of vision, he no longer had the unearthly glow about him, lit instead by regular overhead lights. He dragged Gabriel up into a sitting position, then pulled his head down to kiss him again. Gabriel was sitting on a table, while Jack stood. Even in the brief glimpse of the area before he found himself lost in another kiss, Gabriel recognized the space. It was the conference room they previously held their weekly “coordination meetings” in. It felt like he was reliving a memory. It felt completely real.

Jack started working Gabriel’s shirt up over his head, breaking the kiss to let him finish pulling it the rest of the way off.

“God you’re gorgeous…” Jack whispered, running his fingers down Gabriel’s chest, his voice thick with a level of awe it would almost lead a person to believe he’d never seen Gabriel shirtless before. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy,” Gabriel purred in reply, taking the other man’s shirt off before Jack’s hands slid down to his pants, eagerly undoing them. Gabriel sighed with relief. His pants had become uncomfortably tight…

Jack kissed and nipped his way down Gabriel’s chest, and pulled him free from his boxers. He continued down, dragging his tongue along Gabriel’s length playfully before taking him in his mouth. Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath, raking a hand through Jack’s golden hair, the other braced against the table, keeping him upright as Jack only bobbed a few times before taking him to the hilt. It was ridiculous how good Jack was at that.

Jack moved at a languid pace, casually, sloppily licking along Gabriel’s cock. After a time he picked up speed, drawing even more choked moans from his companion. Though just as Gabriel started to tense, drawing near his climax, Jack stopped, grinning up at him wickedly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bottle of lube, waving it teasingly. 

“I’m gonna make you cum on the conference table,” he said in a casual tone that betrayed his grin. Gabriel laughed. 

“You almost did...just now…”

“Not the same,” Jack chided before, pulling Gabriel off the table and spinning him around. Gabriel chuckled, and allowed himself to be manhandled, stifling another noise as Jack yanked his boxers down and began lubing him up. His fingers were firm, prodding, and worked quickly, but he wasn’t rough, or at least, didn’t cause any discomfort. They slid in and out, strictly business, yet that in itself felt like a tease, driving Gabriel wild. He almost felt dizzy with anticipation as he heard Jack’s pants hit the floor, and felt the man line up behind him. 

“You ready?” Jack purred in his ear.

“ _Fuck_ yes…” Gabriel gasped. Jack made a low noise of approval before shoving Gabriel forward over the table.

With that, Jack pushed in, spreading Gabriel wide as he slowly slid inside. Gabriel bit down on his wrist, as he braced himself against the table, trying to stifle himself. Jack stayed still for a while, nibbling on Gabriel’s shoulder as he grew accustomed to Jack’s intrusion, before he started with small, quick thrusts. Gabriel had to choke down even more embarrassing noises as Jack began to move his hips in earnest. 

Jack may have been inexperienced at receiving, but he was alarmingly good at giving. Almost absurdly so. Gabriel always ended up feeling like he needed to step up his game after Jack fucked him. He knew just how to tilt his hips, just the right ways to thrust and grind. Jack teasingly reminded him that it wasn’t a competition, and that he thought Gabriel was wonderful in bed. But he underestimated Gabriel’s ego. Then again having an arms race to see who could dole out the best fucking was not exactly a problem for their relationship. Though if there was a competition, Jack seemed determined to win.

Typical Jack Morrison. Such a perfectionist. 

“You know. This room is soundproof. You can yell all you want,” Jack teased, as Gabriel nearly stuffed his arm in his mouth to stifle his moans.

“Fuck you, Morrison. It’s not my style. Besides, you’re the one who screams like a bitch-” Gabriel managed to pant out, earning himself a few extra hard thrusts. He laughed and moaned in a garbled confused mixture. “Fuck!”

“Language, soldier,” Jack chided through a faint chuckle, leaning down to nibble on Gabriel’s back. 

“God you’re so corny…” Gabriel hissed, choking down another cry of pleasure as Jack picked up the pace, uttering his own quiet string of profanity. “And a hypocrite…”

“You feel so good…” Jack breathed as the banter died away, both growing too lost in their pleasure to keep it up. Gabriel leaned his forehead against his arm, working his heels ever so slightly further apart, to welcome Jack’s incessant thrusting. As soon as Jack’s hand wrapped around his length he lost it, crying out in pleasure against the table as he came. A few thrusts later Jack came as well, and collapsed on top of Gabriel, panting and sweaty. He planted a few kisses on the nape of Gabriel’s neck as he slid out, muttering incoherent nothings.

They stayed doubled over the table for a while longer, just enjoying the closeness before Gabriel finally had to chuckle.

“You fucked up, Jack.”

“Huh?” Jack grunted, sounding almost disoriented. Gabriel’s smile grew.

“You said you’d make me cum on the table.”

“Yeah? Didn’t I?”

Gabriel shook his head, twisting around to look at Jack, smirking. “I came on the floor.”

Jack snickered, planting a kiss on the corner of Gabriel’s mouth. “We’ll have to work on your aim next time.” Gabriel laughed in response as Jack continued to keep him flattened with his weight to the table. “Mm…” Jack hummed, sounding contemplative as he nuzzled into Gabriel’s shoulder.

“What is it?”

“It’s a really good thing it’s not carpeted in here.”

Gabriel laughed, “God. You’re so romantic…”

Jack nodded in agreement against Gabriel’s shoulder. “I brought wet naps.”

“Of course you did…” Gabriel chuckled, finally trying to push himself up off the table. Jack yielded, letting him up. Gabriel leaned forward to taste Jack’s lips. The two stood for a long while, exchanging gentle kisses, nibbling on each other’s lips as their hands slid lazily across their now sweaty bodies. Gabriel’s eyes shut as he inhaled the smell of Jack’s sweat. He always smelled so wonderful.

“Gabriel...I love you,” Jack whispered against his lips.

“I love you too…” Gabriel purred back, eyes sliding open, only to be greeted by the inky blackness of his own personal hell. “Jack…?” he choked out the name as the horror and grief came crashing down around him. Tears stung his eyes as the joy and warmth melted away, replaced by the cold, dark misery.

 

As time dragged on, Gabriel distracted himself by chipping away at the wood of his coffin with one of the larger metals pinned to his chest. He didn’t really know what he planned to accomplish, or how he planned to defeat the six feet of soil over him if he did chip away enough wood, which seemed unlikely, given how flimsy the metal was proving to be. But it was something to do. 

He wasn’t sure sometimes what kept him from taking the sharpened edge of that jagged piece of scrap and ending his own misery. Then again he was somehow not dead after who knew how long without food or water. What would kill him at this point? Besides, the flimsy little thing probably couldn’t get the job done. Also, if he died, he would never get out. And he would never be able to seek bloody revenge on the parties responsible for this. 

At the same time, slowly, subtly he started to feel changes. At first he wrote them off as minor sensory hallucinations, he had plenty of those. Sometimes they spanned for so long he couldn’t figure out what was reality anymore. He felt like he was dissolving. Then, one time, as he scraped away at the coffin lid, he felt the strange sensation travel down his arm, and suddenly the scrap of metal landed on his face, falling through the back of his hand, or where the back of his hand should have been. 

At first it was thoroughly unsettling. He experimented whenever he felt the sensation come, and found his body was in fact dissipating, somehow. Then he found he could force the sensation away, or call it. It became a fascination. He experimented with dissolving certain parts, moving them, able to reform them in a new position. He tried with fingers, his hand, his arm, his leg, taking larger and larger parts of himself apart at a time.

Finally, after what felt like ages of experimentation and concentration, Gabriel managed to force his entire body to dissipate, and swirled around his prison. It felt strange, as he shifted, moved, then turned solid once more, resituated with his head where his feet had been. He felt around the coffin as he reformed, discovering he had successfully switched. A mad, gleeful laugh erupted from his throat as he felt the comparatively undamaged satin over his face, that he hadn’t shredded in a panic.

He tried again, swirling back the way he started, but not before seeing if he could cram himself into every nook and cranny of the box. It was a bizarre sensation, feeling his form mashed into a right angle corner, filling the space, no uncomfortable bones or really any substance getting in his way. 

It hit like a thunderbolt as he reformed again. A way out of his hell. If he could squeeze into odd shapes, he could probably squeeze through tiny holes...he redoubled his efforts trying to dig his way through the wood of the coffin. After several probing attempts around the lid, it seemed it was too well sealed to try to get out through any cracks there. He also still had a lot of soil over his head to deal with, but he’d worry about that later.

Gabriel tried not to think too critically about why or how he could dissolve. His concerns about this being some sort of hellish afterlife constantly rattled around in his mind, but he stubbornly ignored them. He’d get out first, then figure out what madness had overtaken his existence. 

Eventually he managed to carve a hole through the coffin lid. He jammed his finger through the opening, and was gratified to feel damp earth. He felt himself smiling like a lunatic. He’d never been so pleased to get dirt under his nail. Even after that minor victory, it probably took weeks to work his way up through the soil. He figured out how to form a tendril and push the dirt aside, boring a small hole up until he reached the surface. The work was exhausting, tedious, and occasionally collapsed, but finally, he reached the surface. He dissipated his entire form, and slid his way up through the earth, escaping through the small passage.

When he finally emerged from the ground he immediately collapsed into his solid form. It was difficult to maintain his insubstantial state for as long as it had taken to squeeze up through the tiny passage. The air was fresh around him as he lay on cold, damp grass. It felt like a gentle caress on his cheek. He found himself nuzzling into the grass, running his hands over the blades, shivering with pleasure, something else after an eternity in that box. He was almost afraid to feel joy at this new turn of events, afraid it would just turn out to be yet another hallucination. He was almost in too much shock to truly appreciate what happened. What he accomplished. It was still dark, but Gabriel, for the first time in months, could see. 

And he was surrounded by flowers.

Gabriel slowly forced himself into a sitting position, gazing around. There were hundreds headstones around him, rising out of the manicured grass, stretching in all directions. But piled up around him were bouquets of flowers. The white blossoms seemed to glow in the moonlight. The night was clear, revealing hundreds of stars twinkling alongside the quarter moon. It was hauntingly beautiful, and surreal. Sitting on his own grave, surrounded by flowers. He looked at the headstone and shuddered, seeing his name carved there, and the year of his presumed death. Half of him expected to emerge out in the woods somewhere, intentionally buried alive as a sick form of torture. But this was a real cemetery, and real mourners left these flowers. Everyone believed he was dead. 

He picked up one of the bouquets, he planted his face in it, half out of a desire to smell them, half because he was having trouble supporting his head. It was strange to see so many flowers. Who left them all? Overwatch, and by extension Blackwatch hadn’t been particularly well loved by the time Gabriel met his presumed end. Had he suddenly been forgiven in death? Had Jack left flowers?

A hollow sinking feeling welled in his gut. He considered the possibility that Jack had been a traitor, or that Jack had died in the explosion. He tried not to dwell on either possibility, not enjoying either outcome. He looked around nervously. His wasn’t the only grave adorned with flowers...Gabriel crawled along the row of headstones, reading the names, his grief growing with every grave. All the agents who accompanied him that fateful day were buried. He almost didn’t want to look when he arrived at a grave piled in even more flowers than his own.

When he finally read the name, Gabriel broke down in tears, collapsing back onto the grass, curling up into a ball. The pain of knowing Jack was gone was excruciating. Though at the same time a feeling of relief registered in the back of his mind. If Jack was alive, it would mean he was complicit in everything. From the names of casualties around him, Gabriel knew the destruction to the base had to have been utterly devastating.

He lay on Jack’s grave for a long while, as the raw pain and grief slowly slipped away to numbness. The dryness of his throat slowly overtook his awareness. Eventually he managed to stagger to his feet.

What looked to be a public restroom sat at the edge of the graveyard. Gabriel made his way unevenly to it. He was so weak. He wasn’t sure if it was muscle atrophy from no doubt months trapped in that hell, or if he was, in fact, slowly starving to death. Perhaps both. 

Gabriel staggered inside the bathroom. The automatic lights flickered on at the motion, nearly blinding him. He doubled over, squeezing his eyes shut against the searing brightness. When he was finally able to see again he staggered over to one of the sinks, turned it on, and started frantically drinking directly from the tap. After several frantic gulps, Gabriel finally noticed his hands. His blood froze. They were waxy and gray, sporting jagged black, necrotic wounds.

He finally, hesitantly looked up at the mirror. He flinched away from the grisly visage that greeted him. Gabriel reached up, feeling out the raw jagged wounds and missing bits of flesh as if to make sure it was really his reflection he was seeing. A black eyed, decaying monster. He emitted a noise somewhere between a sob and a hysterical laugh, too emotionally drained already to really process what he was seeing. 

Experimentally he raised his hand, and dissolved his fingers, watching as they turned to a black mist in the mirror. He’d wondered for a long time what exactly what he was doing looked like. He shook his head as his hand reformed, staggering away from the mirror until he slammed into one of the bathroom stalls. He slid to the ground, exhausted, numb, overwhelmed. Unconsciously he began banging his head against the stall, not too hard, just enough to send a satisfying sound and rattle reverberating through the room. A reminder that he was free, no longer stuck in the tiny, muted confines of a coffin. No matter what had become of his body, he was _free_.

Eventually Gabriel gathered enough composure to leave the bathroom. He’d satisfied his thirst, but now he was starving. The graveyard was located out of town, of course. He half considered flagging down a car, it was quite late in the evening, but he still saw them whizz by from time to time. Then again any poor bastard who stopped for him would probably take one look at his face and speed away into the darkness screaming in terror. Even if they decided to help him, he didn’t want word that Gabriel Reyes survived getting out. If he was going to get back at the people who did this to him, it would be best if they believed him dead. 

Fortunately, the graveyard wasn’t too far out of town. It wasn’t even a mile until Gabriel found a small convenience store. The lights were out, and it was closed up for the night, but that hardly served as a deterrent. He crept around the perimeter, scouting it. The weather stripping was missing from the employee entrance, leaving a sizeable gap under the door. Gabriel dissolved into mist and drifted through the crack, reforming inside the store with a smile. He really appreciated this new ability of his.

He located a small, refrigerated display, containing an assortment of premade sandwiches. Gabriel grabbed one at random, and tore open the cellophane with shaking hands. He took a bite, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head with pleasure. The bread was dry, the turkey was slimy, the cheese, rubbery, and the lettuce wilted. But as far as Gabriel was concerned, it was the most delicious goddamn thing he’d ever tasted.

Gabriel devoured half the sandwich just standing next to the refrigerator before he finally slowed down. After countless survival and medic refresher courses, he knew full well this was not the correct way to reintroduce food to a starving person, but he really didn’t have the willpower to stop. Or care. 

Curiosity drew him to the racks of newspapers. He squinted in the dark to see the date on the papers. He nearly choked on his sandwich when he did. A little over seven months had passed...He staggered away from the papers and wandered to the back of the store, grabbing a bottle of water. He also located a bag of chips, and crumpled to the floor in the snack aisle. He would worry about the date later. Seven months without food or water should have left him very, very dead. The lingering concerns about going into shock after stuffing his face faded a little. Whatever happened to his metabolism, it was far from normal. Hopefully his reaction to food would be equally abnormal.

The cap on the water was too hard to open in his weakened state, so he ended up chewing the lid off with his teeth. Finally, after a while, his belly was full, and his thirst sated. He slowly started drifting to the side, his eyelids growing heavy, and fell asleep on the floor.

 

“Sir? Are...are you okay?” A soft voice filtered into Gabriel’s consciousness. He surprised to open his eyes to light, expecting to wake as always in the dark confines of his coffin. He smiled despite himself at the joyous realization that he had, in fact, passed out on the floor of a convenience store, and was still there. It wasn’t all a hallucination. His shoulders shook with silent laughter, delighted by the sheer madness of how happy he was to wake up on the floor like some sort of back alley drunk. 

He glanced up to the voice. The man addressing him leapt back, his eyes going wide with terror and let out a shout. That’s when Gabriel remembered how horrifying he looked. Also that he didn’t want anyone recognizing him...In a snap decision, he dissolved away into mist, and drifted out the door, chased by the terrified screams of the store clerk. As he solidified outside he had to bite back even more laughter. The poor man was probably traumatized now. 

A sudden churning of his stomach distracted Gabriel from his levity. He doubled over, throwing up part of his franticly ingested meal. He wasn’t surprised, but suddenly regretted not stealing any more food on his way out. He considered going back inside to grab another sandwich, but figured the clerk had been frightened enough. 

The sky glowed with a faint, pre-dawn light. Gabriel quickly shuffled through his options, and decided to steal the only car in the parking lot...which probably belonged to the store clerk. Oh well. The man would get it back when Gabriel was done with it. Still he couldn’t keep from laughing as he pulled away, and heard the alarmed yells from the clerk. Car stolen by a ghost. He’d have one hell of a story to tell his friends later...Though they would probably all just think he was nuts. 

Over the next few days Gabriel ended up stealing essentially everything he needed. He snagged sunglasses, clothes, money. He even broke into a beauty supply store to raid their makeup. Though finding a foundation thick enough to mask the waxy gray of his skin, or his necrotic wounds was no simple task. Eventually he found one that was passable, leaving the employees of that store with a messy pile of torn open makeup to contend with in the morning. And an empty cash register. But he needed some way to interact with the world without relying on stealth or having it ending in screams of terror. Sunglasses, heavy makeup, scarves and sneeze masks got him most of the way there. 

His strength returned quickly. Far faster, in fact, than it had any right to. Gabriel expected to spend months rehabilitating himself from the muscle atrophy he should have experienced. Then again he could turn into fog now, so who knew what that meant for his muscle tissue. It seemed having consistent access to food and water was all he needed, he felt nearly like himself within a matter of weeks. Well, at least a version of himself who could turn into mist at random. 

The convenience store clerk’s harrowing story of the ghost who stole his car made local news. As Gabriel watched the news story in the quiet safety of a shitty, cheap hotel room, he found himself laughing until his sides hurt. Everyone thought the man was out of his gourd, though a security camera had recorded a mist drifting through the store, and his sandwich theft. Fortunately his face was missing from all the shots, and the consensus seemed to be it was all an elaborate hoax. 

The store clerk was, understandably, upset. Gabriel felt a little guilty. But only a little. He left the car back in the store parking lot a week later. He also left the downright ugliest flower covered thank you card he could find in the passenger’s seat, stuffed a half dozen, stolen, large denomination bills. Gabriel snickered as he signed the card. 

_Thanks for the ride. Sorry about that. Some cash for your trouble._  
-The Car Stealing Ghost  
XOXOXO 

The joy from accidentally pranking the poor, random stranger was a welcome distraction for the creeping, constant horror of his existence. Staring into the mirror as he smeared the thick makeup over his waxy skin was always a uniquely terrifying experience. Watching his black eyes staring back at him. He was a monster now. He derived a sick fascination watching the sores open and close all over his body. None of them really hurt, but they were constantly changing, far faster than was possible. Though it was uncomfortable when his fingernails would pop off on occasion. Gloves became a constant companion.

Gabriel spent countless hours in his grave, plotting his revenge, coming up with plans. Yet in all that time the notion that he would emerge as some sort of zombie, and that Overwatch would be entirely dismantled had not occurred to him. His plans needed restructuring. Fortunately his new wraith form made defeating even some of the highest tech security systems a piece of cake. It took less than a month to pull off a rather substantial bank heist, setting himself up with an operating budget.

He decided the best way to take down Talon, to find the people responsible for torturing him and murdering Jack, was to do to them what they did to Overwatch. Infiltrate, and destroy from the inside. He didn’t care what it took. Didn’t care who he may hurt along the way. He wanted to know every last name responsible. They would clamor at the opportunity to work with someone with his powers and knowledge. He would win their trust, find the identities of everyone who betrayed them. Hunt them down. They were all going to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sorry, I'm a terrible person  
> -<3


	13. Chapter 13

A quiet melancholy settled over Jack. After her heard Angela’s story, it took all his willpower to keep from rushing down from the lab and freeing Reaper on the spot. Though it’s not like he would have accomplished anything, he wouldn’t have made it very far. Instead he isolated himself. Tried to decide how to proceed, weighed his options. The members of Overwatch meant well, he had no doubt about that. He wasn’t sure when he first joined, but he’d grown convinced. They could be valuable resources. They also had their own notions about Gabriel, however, and Jack didn’t agree with most of them.

Lately, he spent much of his time thinking about the past, trying to piece together everything that happened. It was always a constant theme in his mind, but it had grown much more pressing the last few days. There was still the possibility that Reaper was just some crazed, brainwashed monster, that Talon had dug their claws in, taken him over, and the Gabriel he knew was gone. But Jack knew that simply wasn't true. A rift of distrust emerged those final days before the explosion. Gabriel had been paranoid and agitated, but Jack had also been insensitive and blind. Gabriel’s paranoia turned out to be almost completely founded in reality. He’d caught wind of a conspiracy so vast Jack simply refused to believe it. And it nearly killed them both.

Now he knew about Gabriel’s horrible experience- Jack didn’t even like thinking about what kind of things being buried like that could do to a person. But that trauma had the potential to explain a lot. The bottom line was he was still Gabriel, and he needed help. Jack failed him once before; he wasn’t going to fail him again.

It took a couple days, but Jack made up his mind. He knew what he had to do. While it was the right choice, it didn’t make what he was about to give up, any less painful.

If anyone noticed Jack’s behavior, they didn’t say anything. Jack hadn’t exactly been a ray of sunshine to begin with, so it was probably easy to miss. He was also very well practiced at hiding his emotions, in particular his feelings for Gabe. Though lately the mask was slipping.

The base was quieter than usual tonight. Most of Overwatch were all off on a mission, trying to stop a weapons trafficking ring. Winston was nervous about leaving the base so undefended, but it was an important mission, with a high potential for roping in some new recruits. He trusted Morrison to hold down the fort while he was gone. Jack rolled his eyes at that, but didn’t protest too loudly. The few remaining on base, including Fareeha, Reinhardt, McCree and Lucio were hardly a helpless crew. Only having five people in the base, however, made it feel awfully empty.

Jack smiled fondly as he passed the common room. Fareeha and Reinhardt sat chatting, while Reinhardt carefully painted Fareeha’s nails a shimmering gold. The brush was comically tiny in his gigantic fingers, but he handled it deftly. It seemed Fareeha had already done the same for him, since his nails were done in a delicate mauve.

“Hey! Jack! Come, join us! We can do you next. We have a perfect blue that would match that jacket of yours…” Reinhardt barked, spotting Jack as he lingered in the doorway. He chuckled.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll pass.”

“Your loss. Fareeha and I will just be stylish together…”

“Ohh, I bet Lucio would love the lime green…” Fareeha added, looking down at the sizeable collection of tiny bottles nestled together on the table.

“Hah! We’ll have to do him next…” Reinhardt barked as Jack shook his head and started off down the hall.

“I’ll let him know you’re looking for him,” he called back.

“Excellent!”

At least it seemed like Winston was the only one worried about security.

Chatter from Talon had been minimal lately. What they did intercept made it sound like the organization was suffering a bit of a crisis. Between the disaster of a mission Reaper sent them on, and their failed assault on Overwatch, they were stretched thin. Infighting and trying to keep rival organizations from encroaching on their operations seemed to be dominating their resources for now.

Jack bided his time, waiting for night to fall. He quietly lifted a few items out of the armory in preparation, carefully stashed away some supplies. He felt like he should nap, so he could be well rested, but instead found himself taking apart and cleaning his pulse rifle. He was too anxious to rest.

Eventually Lucio and Reinhardt headed off to bed, while Fareeha went to Reaper guarding duty. As for McCree...who knew where the man was. Hopefully asleep. He’d been an enigmatic weirdo as a youth, and had continued the tendency into maturity as far as Jack could tell. He was a wild card Jack didn’t particularly enjoy leaving unaccounted for, but he didn’t really have a choice. Who knew when he would have another opportunity like this. He may never get another chance.

Jack made his way to the command center. The computer monitors flickered on as the motion detectors picked up Jack’s presence. Athena’s A appeared on the screens.

_“Ah, Commander Morrison. What are you doing up so late?”_ The electronic voice chimed.

“I’ve told you before. Please. Just...call me Jack. And I couldn’t sleep.”

_“My apologies, Jack. You should try some of Reinhardt’s herbal tea. Everyone seems to love it.”_

“I’ll keep that in mind. In the meantime, I was wondering if you couldn’t cross check a few databases for me?”

_“Of course, what do you need?”_

“Quite a lot. Actually. It’s going to take a while. I figured this would be a good time to do it, so you didn’t have to burn processing power on it when other people needed you.” Jack listed off several large global databases and a few oddly specific parameters to hunt down, on the pretense of trying to identify gang members.

_“I’m sure the others wouldn’t mind sharing my resources, Jack. But this works as well. That is a lot of data to analyze. If I dedicate full system resources to it the analysis should be complete in...Approximately four hours. Just in time for breakfast.”_

“That would be perfect, thank you. Just leave me a message when you finish, in case I manage to get back to sleep.”

_“I believe agent McCree also has a bottle of bourbon in the top cabinet left of the refrigerator, if you don’t think the tea will work.”_ Athena offered helpfully. Jack chuckled.

“I might just try that, thank you.”

Athena’s screens flickered off as she engaged her analysis. Jack left the command center, chewing his lip, hoping that was enough to distract an AI with access to every camera on the base. At least the parameters he asked for were an even bigger task than he’d estimated. He half feared she would be done in fifteen minutes and he would have to feign interest in her results while he came up with a new plan.

He stopped by his room to gather his supplies before he made his way down towards the lab and quietly, quickly, disabled the hall security camera. He then accessed the newly repaired control panel to the lab, and disabled those security cameras as well. Hacking was never his strong suit, but he was plenty handy with a pair of wire cutters. He became intimately familiar with this particular panel after D.Va’s mech barreled through it, and he’d helped Torbjorn with repairs. If Athena was going to cause him grief, now would be the time. He held his breath as he cut the final wire, disrupting the feed. No alarms.

_“Fareeha. I’m detecting a disruption to the security cameras in your location. Is everything alright?”_ Athena’s voice chimed in the lab a few seconds later. Jack cringed, as he silently replaced the panel.

“Hm? No? I mean, yes. Everything’s clear here. Want me to go check it out?” Fareeha replied.

_“It’s probably just a loose connection after the repair, but would you?”_

Jack scowled. _Damn_. Why on earth would the speaker and microphone would be wired differently? Oh well. Hoping Athena wouldn’t notice was a long shot anyway. He drew one of the weapons he’d pilfered from the armory. Ana’s spare sedative pistol. Fareeha blinked when she rounded the corner and saw Jack.

“I’m really sorry about this,” Jack said before he pulled the trigger. Fareeha’s eyes went wide, but otherwise she didn’t have a chance to respond before the sleep dart took hold and she tumbled forward. Jack caught her, and carefully laid her down on the floor to sleep off the effects.

Jack took a few steps into the lab, scanning the area, half expecting to find something extremely inconvenient like McCree hiding in the corner. Reaper still sat in his cage, leaning up against the bed, his head resting on his knees. He seemed to be ignoring everything happening in the lab, but Jack knew better than to assume.

_“Fareeha? Did you find anything?”_

“Uh, Fareeha said she was going to go grab some tools to take a look at that panel. I’m taking over guard duty. She’s better at that sort of thing than I am.”

_“There’s a full toolkit in the lab.”_ Athena pointed out helpfully. Jack scrubbed his hands over his face in frustration as he made his way towards the mic, Reaper’s head finally popping up, curiously.

“Oh, is there? Oopse...well, she already left,” Jack said casually, trying to quickly come up with a way to disable the microphone. No exposed wires, that would have been too much to hope for. He snapped his fingers, an idea suddenly occurred to him. “Hey, didn’t Lucio make a relaxation song, or something?” Jack asked as he quietly moved one of Lucio’s wireless speakers on top of a shelf, pointing it right at the microphone.

_“Yes, it’s on his console, under the file name ‘Chill Out’.”_

“Great, thanks, might give that a try,” Jack said, before opening the song, blasting the melody into the speaker, hopefully drowning out any incidental noises. The final problem taken care of, Jack marched over to Reaper’s enclosure.

By now Gabriel was on his feet, watching Jack with completely unmasked curiosity and surprise. Jack punched in his security code, and pulled the door to Reaper’s prison open. The forcefield buzzed sharply as it went offline. Gabriel just stood staring at him, shocked.

“I heard what happened to you. From Angela. And honestly I should have done this ages ago. I don’t know what you’re planning with Talon, and I don’t care,” Jack said quietly as he unhooked Reaper’s twin shotguns from his back, pulling them out from where they’d been awkwardly hidden beneath his jacket. He hefted them by the barrels, holding them out for Gabriel to take. Slowly, methodically, and with a look of total disbelief Gabriel reached out and grasped the two guns, staring between them and Jack.

“I meant it when I said it all those years ago, and I’m here to say it again. I’d follow you to hell.”

Gabriel stood stunned for a few moments longer before he abruptly dropped both the weapons, grabbed the front of Jack’s jacket, and dragged him into a crushing kiss. Jack emitted a soft, startled noise, before melting into the rough embrace, leaning in as Reaper bit his lower lip. He could feel that same ferocity and passion, the same possessiveness, the same need he’d always felt from Gabriel years ago. It was so familiar, even if his body was different now. There was currently a piece missing from the corner of Reaper’s mouth, but his lips were still wonderfully soft and inviting. And if Gabriel wasn’t bothered by the missing piece, neither was Jack.

Jack slid his arms around Gabriel’s waist, pulling their bodies flush. It felt like he was finally home, he never wanted it to end. Tasting his lips, feeling the warmth of his body. It was strange, yet so right, almost like their first kiss years ago.

“God I missed you…” Jack breathed when their lips finally parted. He found himself nuzzling against Gabe, tears stinging his eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” Gabe whispered back, his head sagging as be burrowed against Jack’s neck. He slid his hands around Jack’s chest, grabbing new fistfuls of jacket against Jack’s back, clinging almost desperately, like he expected Jack to vanish at any second.

“No, none of that...if anyone should be apologizing it’s me.”

“I’m a monster now.”

“No, you’re not,” Jack snapped back. “Or if you don’t accept that, if you are a monster? I don’t care. I want to be with you. No matter what. And speaking of, we should get moving. I don’t know how long it’s going to be until Athena figures out something’s wrong.” Jack hesitantly pulled away, reaching up to cup Reaper’s cheek as he seemed to shrink away into his hood. Jack was gratified when Gabe grabbed his hand and held it against his face, smiling. There were tears in his eyes, shimmering strangely against the black that now clouded them. Jack couldn’t help but grin, realizing this time he was hiding in his hood out of embarrassment over his tears instead of his appearance.

As if on cue, Athena’s voice rang out over the intercom. _"Agent Pharah, please report...Fareeha?”_

“Sounds like she’ll figure it out soon. That was a pretty rough cover. Then again you were always terrible at stealth,” Gabriel teased quietly, suddenly sounding like himself. Jack bit back a laugh.

“I didn’t realize it was wired completely differently from the cameras! I mean, who does that?” Jack whispered back, unable to contain his idiot grin.

Reaper scooped up his discarded guns, and the two hurried out to the hall, Jack leading the way to the garage. He’d already pilfered one of the vehicle’s remotes. They were careful to dodge the security cameras, which had the unfortunate side effect of greatly slowing their travel. When they were about half way there, finally Athena gave up hunting for Fareeha, and raised the alarm.

The two broke into a sprint, all pretense at stealth abandoned.

_”Security breach! The prisoner has escaped! Soldier 76! What are you doing!”_ Athena called over the com as they finally passed in front of a camera, Jack kicking open the last door on their way out.

“Sorry, Athena. This is just how it has to be,” Jack grumbled, pulling the remote from his pocket, pointing Reaper to the vehicle.

The garage was a cavernous place. Several jets and other aerial vehicles taking up the center of the floor, positioned under the retractable ceiling panel. Soldier had considered stealing one of them, it would make for a fast escape, but vanishing would be much more difficult in one of those. Their tracking systems were too thoroughly ingrained. Instead Jack opted for one of the sportier hover cars, a compact, sleek, gray vehicle that would blend in as soon as they hit a city.

“I’m driving. You watch our six,” Gabe growled, snatching the remote from Jack’s hand as they ran. He turned into a black mist, pulling ahead and pouring in through the hover car’s cracked window. Jack opened a back door and flung himself into the seat, readying his rifle as the vehicle hummed to life, lifting off the ground as the hover engines engaged.

“How do we get the doors open?” Reaper barked, Jack blinked.

“They should have raised as soon as the car activated-”

“You see now. Once the alarm’s gone up? You gotta activate a manual override to get those doors open. Some new security measures after the last attack,” McCree’s voice drawled over the intercom. Jack looked up to the control room.

Nestled along the wall was a small room brimming with monitors and radar, mostly for bringing the aircraft in. A broad window looked down into the garage from the room, revealing McCree sitting casually inside, his feet crossed, and propped up on top of the control panel. The cowboy waved halfheartedly, while he fiddled with the microphone. Jack trained his rifle on him, clenching his jaw. What was he doing? Either way, it was two against one, they’d still make it out, though Athena had probably activated the automated defenses, which would arrive any second now.

“C’mon now Morrison, ya ain’t gonna shoot me now, are ya?” McCree said casually, uncrossing his ankles and scraping one of his spurs roughly across the control panel as he adjusted to a more civilized sitting position. There was a loud click, and the garage door started to lift. “Aw dang, would you lookit that? Musta gone and accidentally hit the override with my spur. Shucks,” McCree said in a tone that was anything but surprised or dismayed. Reaper chuckled softly, as Jack stared up at McCree in dumbfounded silence. “Y’all take care, alright?”

Before Jack could shake off enough of his shock to even consider a response, he found himself being thrown against the seat as the car abruptly sped forward.

“By automated defenses, you mean those little attack drones, right?” Reaper growled as the car sped away.

“Yeah. I have no idea if they’ll be coming in hot or not. Either way they’ll probably try to disable the car.” Jack rolled down the window, leaning out as he saw a small shape rise from the base, followed by another, then a third. Jack took aim, and squeezed the trigger-his shot going wild as the car suddenly jerked.

“Keep it steady!” Soldier 76 barked in frustration, lining up another shot.

“This road is shitty!” Gabriel snapped back defensively.

Jack took aim again, hitting this time, the drone exploding like a firework against the night sky. The second followed suit in short order, but the third managed to duck out of sight. Jack swore, scanning their surroundings. It must have dipped behind a tree or a building. After a few moments, they made their way off the base and down into the city. Jack swore, ducking back inside the car.

“Didn’t get the third, we’re just going to have to evade it,” he said as he clambered awkwardly into the front seat. This car was nowhere near large enough for such a maneuver, and swerved as Jack accidentally jostled Gabriel a little too hard. “I’m going to disable the GPS so at least it can’t track us that way…” he said as he pulled out a screwdriver, and began using it to pry open the dashboard.

“Good plan,” Gabe grumbled back, anxiously checking the rear view mirror before accelerating through the streets.

The dashboard gave way with a loud crack. Jack tossed the broken piece of plastic into the foot well, and reached for the tangle of wires inside. At least this time he knew for sure what to sever to disable the GPS. He grabbed a small box and ripped it roughly from the car, wires snapping and connections buzzing as he did. Gabriel raised a brow, a grin spreading across his face as he wove in and out of traffic.

“Been working on your hacking skills, I see…”

Jack chuckled as he tossed the box out a window. He gave Gabe a pat on the shoulder, before awkwardly scrambling to the back seat again, resuming his scan for the drone. “Figured it was about time.”

Jack cycled through the input settings on his visor in an attempt to spot the drone. Occasionally he thought he saw it somewhere in the distance, but he was never able to get a proper shot in. Cars honked angrily as the two made their breakneck escape, speeding through traffic lights, and weaving between cars. Gabe had always been a good, if terrifying driver. Jack was glad to see that hadn’t changed. He suspected a lot would be the same with him, but some things would be drastically new and different. He was nervous, but also eager to learn. To get to know Gabe all over again.

The scenery slowly transitioned as they drove, from street lights and businesses to burnt out shells of buildings and rubble as they sped to the omnic-destroyed outskirts of town. Silence descended over them both as they focused on their respective tasks. Jack turned on his night vision, more determined than ever to find any pursuit, while Gabriel sped forward at even more reckless speeds than he had in town.

The destruction melted away steadily into wide open expanses of farmland as their journey continued. Jack slowly started to relax as he continued not to see any signs of pursuit. He knew the range on the drones was substantial, but they’d also traveled quite a distance if his surroundings were any indication. He let out a heavy sigh, leaning against the back of Gabriel’s seat, scrunched up awkwardly still looking out the back window. This vehicle was not built for men of his size. Soon enough the scenery changed again, trees beginning to whizz by, until they were fully immersed in a dark forest road.

“I think we’re in the clear,” Jack said finally.

“Good. We’re getting low on charge…”

“Really? Already?” Jack said with surprise, finally giving up his search. He would never see anything through the trees.

“Yeah, driving like that’s hell on a battery. And we’ve been at it for a while,” Gabriel grumbled, as the car began to slow. Jack twisted around to peer at the dashboard over his shoulder, curiously. Gabe glanced back at Jack and shrugged, there was still some charge left, but it was surprisingly drained. “Letting the car cool off will get us further with what we have. Might as well take a break if we’re in the clear.”

“There’s also a spare charged pack in the trunk,” Jack offered with a crooked smirk.

“So you _did_ think this through.”

“Parts of it at least…”

Gabriel pulled the car over to the side of the road, gliding to a stop, the hover generators disengaging as the car came to rest on the gravel shoulder. Reaper turned to smoke and drifted into the back seat, reforming next to Jack, the entire process much more graceful than Morrison’s awkward scrambling earlier. He ran a hand over his salt and pepper hair as he eyed Jack, his hood pushed back. There was indeed something monstrous about his appearance now, with the black eyes and unnatural coloration. But as Jack stared at him, admiring his strong jaw line and furrowed brow, there was no denying. He was still beautiful.

“Jack, I…” Gabriel started as he looked at Jack, the words dying on his lips. Jack knew the feeling. There was so much to say, it was impossible to know where to start. Jack took his hand, cradling it in both of his own, sliding his thumbs across his former lover’s skin, now marred with decay. He closed his eyes, overwhelmed.

“It almost killed me...thinking you were gone...” Jack said quietly as the silence stretched on. Gabriel lifted his free hand, gently running his fingers along Jack’s hair line. It was much further back than it used to be. Jack smiled faintly as Gabriel combed his fingers through his white hair. They both changed.

“You were with me sometimes. In the grave…” Gabriel murmured. Jack opened his eyes at that, startled, blinking at Gabriel, who turned away, sheepish. “I uh...mean…” He cleared his throat, looking fixedly out the window, occasionally glancing to Jack. “I hallucinated a lot?”

Jack shook his head, squeezing Gabriel’s hand. “I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”

“Seeing you, sometimes. I mean having you there, even if it was all in my head. Helped me get through it, I think… I-I mean sometimes it was almost worse but most of the time…” Gabe stammered out.

Jack chuckled softly, reaching out and gently capturing Gabriel’s chin, guiding his face back to look at him. “I think I understand. You don’t have to explain.”

The pair sank into silence again as Jack leaned forward. Their eyes fluttered shut as their lips gently brushed together, slowly, tentatively, each seeming to silently ask for permission, as if they hadn’t already kissed. Jack slid his thumb gently along Gabriel’s jaw, while Gabe trailed his fingers through Jack’s hair as they deepened the kiss, lips parting, nibbling, welcoming. Fire started to stir in Jack’s blood. After the adrenaline rush of their escape, this moment of peace was desperately welcomed. Years of longing, however, could not be ignored. His breath hitched a few times as the realization hit him, again and again, trying to make him truly believe it. _I have him back._

After spending a long while savoring the taste of his lips, and the gentle caress of his tongue Jack started nibbling his way down Gabriel’s neck, nipping and kissing gently, drawing a shiver from his companion. Jack smiled in satisfaction, biting down a little harder, only to draw back in horror as a piece of flesh ripped off between his teeth. He spat it out, jerking up suddenly.

“Oh god, I am _so sorry_ ,” Jack stammered, while Gabriel leaned back, looking startled. He tentatively lifted his fingers to his neck, feeling out the new black wound. Jack’s visor picked up the telltale hint of Gabriel’s cheeks coloring, even in the dark.

“Sorry...that. Happens. I uh. Sorry…” Gabriel mumbled, looking embarrassed as he leaned away. Jack grabbed his shoulders gently, trying to prevent him from fleeing too far.

“No, no, I’m sorry- I. Jeez, does that hurt?” Jack asked, gently feeling the edges of the bite mark.

“No. Not at all…”

Jack heaved a sigh of relief, relaxing a little. “Good, I’m glad…” he hesitated as Gabriel continued to avoid looking at him, pulling away. “Gabe, what’s wrong?”

His strange black eyes locked on Jack, brow raised. “What do you mean- Jack. Don’t you get it? You don’t know what you’re getting into. That shit happens all the time. I’m some kind of...fucked up nanite zombie now. It’s not something- I’m literally a monster now...” he trailed off, frustration choking away his words. Jack smiled sadly at him.

“Gabe...I know. I don’t care about that. I just thought I’d hurt you...”

Gabe looked skeptical, but started to relax, letting Jack pull him forward a little. “You don’t care? At all?”

Jack shrugged. “I mean, it’ll take some getting used to. I’m sure we’ll have to make accommodations, but it’s nothing I can’t handle as long as you’re comfortable…”

“Really,” Reaper said flatly. “Nothing you can’t handle…?” He began running his fingers along Jack’s cheek, before they seemed to melt away, turning into smoky tendrils of mist that trailed their way along Jack’s skin, caressing along his ear, drifting up into his hair, beginning to envelope the entire side of his face. Jack blinked with surprise at the touch, shivering faintly, then jumped as abruptly the rest of Gabriel turned into black mist, and enveloped him.

It was like nothing Jack had ever felt. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head as the tendrils of smoke roamed his body, touching him everywhere at once. It swam along his skin, slithered under his clothes, caressing every inch of him at once. It was almost too much. Jack gasped involuntarily as the mist trailed along his nose, his eyelashes, his lips. He accidentally inhaled some of it, tickling his windpipe, making him cough. After that Reaper drew away, reforming in front of him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to choke…” Gabriel started, before he noticed Jack’s reaction, sitting stunned, eyes half lidded and mouth hanging open, basking in the overwhelming pleasure of what he’d just experienced.

Jack practically lunged forward, grabbing Gabriel’s head and crushing their lips together. He was suddenly so hard he felt like he’d burst out of his pants. Gabriel let out a small, startled noise, but welcomed the onslaught with delight as Jack practically rammed his tongue down his throat. Gabriel grabbed the back of Jack’s head in response, returning the kiss with equal enthusiasm, dragging Jack with him as he leaned back against the door of the car, wedging his knee between Jack’s legs.

Jack couldn’t help but laugh at himself. They were like a pair of teenagers on prom night, furiously grinding on each other in the cramped back of a car. The rear seats were bad enough for sitting, and were even worse for what they were trying to do. They thumped around awkwardly, trying to position themselves comfortably while still furiously groping and kissing. Jack’s hands roamed under Reaper’s coat, trying to figure out how on earth he was supposed to get the kevlar body suit off, while Gabriel had a much easier time pushing Jack’s jacket off and weaving his fingers under the man’s shirt. Jack felt a kind of joyful release at their clumsy escapades. He felt young again. Alive.

The car shifted and ground against the gravel shoulder as the two men inside bumped and jerked around. They struggled to reposition as Gabriel guided Jack’s hands to the zipper on the back of his suit, when suddenly the two were disrupted by the sound of breaking glass. They froze. Jack turned, blinking, worried for a horrified moment thinking Overwatch had somehow caught up to them. Instead he discovered Gabriel had accidentally kicked out the window with his metal plated boot. Jack let out a joyous, almost crazed laugh at the absurdity of it.

Jack leaned his head into Gabriel’s chest, his shoulders shaking with laughter. Gabriel chuckled along with him, casually kicking out the few remaining chunks of shattered safety glass still standing.

“I don’t suppose you have a window repair kit in the trunk too?”

“No,” Jack wheezed.

“Well shit,” Gabriel snickered. “I don’t think we fit back here very well.”

“Not really,” Jack smiled, venturing another glance back at the window, and the glittering chunks of glass all over the inside the car, covering the armrest and seat, pouring onto the floor. “God. It’s everywhere…”

Gabe idly toyed with Jack’s hair, grunting an acknowledgment. “It is… Maybe this is a sign we should get moving again. There’s a safe house that should be within range of that second battery pack where we can hole up. Regroup.”

“A Talon safe house?” Jack asked cautiously.

“Nah, those idiot’s houses are about as safe as the tiger pen at the zoo,” Gabriel murmured. “It’s held by some other associates. Also not very trustworthy, but you know. The enemy of my enemy-” he paused mid sentence, pushing Jack away to get a good look at him. “Wait. You busted me out and didn’t know if I was actually working with Talon or not?”

“Well...I suspected not. Since they tried to kill you. But no, I wasn’t sure…” Jack confessed as they started navigating their way into a more civilized seated position, trying not to put their hands in or sit on any broken glass.

Gabriel smiled, laughing. “You're a crazy son of a bitch…”

“I just want to be with you. I trust you. I should have trusted you. Shit. This is all- everything was my fault. Gabe...I hope you can forgive me,” Jack said, growing somber.

Gabriel shook his head. “You would have come around if we’d had time. And I doubt I made your life any easier either,” he sighed. “I had my doubts when I found you were alive, but I’ve realized you couldn’t have been in on it either. If it makes you feel better, consider yourself forgiven.”

Jack sighed with relief. He hadn’t realized how heavily that particular guilt had been weighing on him until Gabriel waved it aside like it was nothing. “You’re hunting the people who brought down Overwatch now, aren’t you? The people who did this to you.”

“Yes.”

Jack’s lips twisted into a crooked, conspiratorial smile as he took Gabriel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Now we can hunt them together.”

Reaper stared at him, a smile slowly creeping its way onto his lips. “I knew there was a reason why I loved you…”

Jack smiled back, leaning in to steal a kiss. Though what was intended as a short peck immediately devolved to another slow, tender embrace.

“We really should get going…” Gabriel purred against his mouth, sounding none too eager to move.

Jack shared the sentiment entirely. “Yeah,” he said, lazily nibbling on Gabriel’s lips between words. “We should…” _Eventually._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Almost done! Thank you to all my readers and lovely commenters for sticking with me this long :]  
> -Also AO3s text editor can still blow me. It fucking exploded after I did the preview. Let me know if you see any mysterious formatting fuckups so I can fix them. Sob...Forget to close one measly tag and it loses its damn mind...


	14. Chapter 14

“McCree! What were you thinking! Letting them go like that! You could have stopped them!” Ana yelled, Hana winced, she’d never heard Ana raise her voice before. When she was angry she was usually more the quiet, deadly type. This was a new kind of scary. Even McCree looked a little distraught, but only a little.

“Hey now, what did you expect me to do? Shoot ‘em? My flashbangs don’t work from that far. And I ain’t got those fancy...taser bullets you have.”

“You didn’t have to hold the door open for them!”

“Eh, they woulda gotten out anyway. It’s Morrison ‘n Reyes. I was just savin’ us from some extra property damage…” McCree quipped back, hooking his thumbs in his belt and rocking back on his heels with a cocky grin. Whatever alarm he’d expressed fading away. 

“They would have needed to get into the control room! And you could have stopped them!”

“Or Morrison coulda blown a hole in the door with his gun-rockets, or Reyes coulda hacked it or some such...Y’all know how much trainin’ they had, what they could do back in the day? Jack shot that drone outta the air at a hundred yards out the back of a car probably goin’ ninety at night. Those two were capable before, now they’re reckless ‘n crazier than a bag ‘a feral cats. They’re unstoppable.”

Ana glared in furious silence for a few moments longer before she sighed, her shoulders sagging. “A bag. Of feral cats…” Ana pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head slowly. “Do you know. How long. It took me to track those idiots down?”

“I understand that. But didja really think it was ever gonna work? Figure’s why we never had a plan ‘t deal with Reaper. Probably never thought we’d bag ‘im to begin with,” McCree said with a half hearted shrug.

“I don’t want to hear it,” Ana grumbled, her hand moving up to massage her forehead instead.

“I’m just sayin’-” McCree started, before Ana’s finger shot out, smashing against McCree’s lips, silencing him.

“Ah-ah! Don’t! Want. To hear it. Cowboy. Just give me some time. God help me you haven’t changed a bit…”

“I ah. He has a point, you know,” Reinhardt offered a little sheepishly. He’d been thoroughly chewed out for his failure to notice anything, and his poor reaction time when the alarm went off already.

“I still can’t believe Jack shot me with _your_ tranq gun,” Fareeha grumbled, rubbing her abdomen where the dart had hit, scowling at her mother.

“Wha- How is that _my_ fault!” Ana stammered, as a fresh new argument about security broke out.

Hana stood at the back of the control room, watching the scene with unmasked amusement. If only she had some popcorn...News of Reaper and 76’s escapee came as a sad surprise. She had grown attached to Gabe, and felt she was finally making headway getting to know Jack, but now they were gone. Watching Ana, Fareeha and McCree bicker like the dysfunctional family they were, however, was priceless.

Most everyone had gathered in the control room, trying to figure out if there was some way to track the fugitives down. Unfortunately all their remote attempts at tracking had ended in failure, and their physical methods hadn’t yielded any results either. Not that they had enough people to even check the nearby city, let alone how far they could have gotten since the rest of Overwatch returned to base.

There had also been a great deal of debate about _why_ Jack decided to break Reaper out. What surveillance footage there was of the two seemed to be cooperating, there were no signs of coercion from either end. Most were also unwilling to believe Jack was simply a Talon plant or a traitor or some kind. Hana suspected there was something else going on, after all her research, but even she wasn’t sure what it was. She had her suspicions, but nothing concrete.

“You guys! You guys!” Lena’s voice called excitedly from down the hall, accompanied by her frantic running footsteps. A few moments later she blinked into the room, skidding to a halt in the middle of the argument, gleefully oblivious to her interruption and grinning like an idiot. She held open a laptop, bouncing on her toes as she situated herself to make sure everyone could see the screen, flagging them all to gather around. “You guys aren’t gonna believe this!”

“Lena! Wait!” Angela yelled from down the hall, chasing her much faster companion. 

Everyone huddled around the screen which held a still shot of Reaper’s enclosure.

“You got a security recording? I thought Morrison disabled them…” Winston rumbled, adjusting his glasses as he loomed over them all.

“Oh yeah, Angela’s got that one that’s not on the grid! I forgot about that one! Hooked up to her bio-scanner stuff…” Lucio said, cocking his head curiously. “Musta caught them bustin’ out.”

“Bingo!” Lena said with a chuckle, before she gleefully pressed play. 

The silent image flickered to life, showing Jack punching in his access code and opening the door for Reaper, and handing over his guns. Then to everyone’s shock, they saw Reaper drop those guns, and launch forward and kiss Jack. The group exploded with reactions, mostly ranging from surprise and dismay to mild disgust.

“What! How! Since when-!” Ana stammered out.

“Aww...they’re so cute…” Hana cooed, clutching her hands to her chest in delight. “No wonder Jack was so grumpy, we had his boyfriend in a cage.”

“Yep. Shoulda seen that comin’...” McCree drawled.

“How was anyone supposed to see that coming!” Ana barked.

“Oh. ‘D I forget to mention? They were a couple back in the day…” McCree said casually, drawing looks from everyone, especially Lena.

“What...you _knew?_ ” Ana hissed

“And you never _told me?_ ” Lena gasped, betrayed.

“What? I gave my word I wouldn’t tell anyone. ‘N I’m a man of my word.”

“But- but! Jack and Gabe! Boyfriends! How could you not-” Lena stammered.

“Like I said, I gave my word. Kinda like how I gave my word not to tell anyone ‘bout that one time in LA when you-” McCree started, before Lena tackle hugged him, hopping up on her tiptoes and clamping her hand over his mouth, forcing Lucio to catch the laptop as she dropped it.

“Ha! Ha, hah, right? Of course! Good times...Good times…” Lena laughed, nervously

“Y’all really gotta stop shushin’ me like that…” McCree muttered once Lena dropped her hand.

“Seriously, how did none of you know about this?” Lucio asked, staring down at the now still image of the pair nuzzling. “I thought you were all friends!”

“Eh, they were tryin’ to keep it real quiet,” McCree said.

“I suspected for like a minute once!” Lena added.

“Well I guess that explains a few things. Like the time I saw Jack drag Gabe into a broom closet,” Reinhardt chuckled, shaking his head. He gave Ana a compassionate smile, resting a hand on her shoulder. The woman had her face planted in both of her hands, stewing with frustration. “Jack still seemed like a fairly reasonable fellow...maybe he will help get Gabe back to himself?” 

The group again launched into chatter, comparing every single suspicious incident they could remember of the two. Any looks, touches, exchanges. By the end of their sharing, they’d amassed enough tiny bits of circumstantial evidence to provide a pretty strong case that they were, in retrospect, a couple. The old members seemed endlessly frustrated that none of them ever put it together, while McCree just looked smug. 

After all of Hana’s investigations she couldn’t help but believe that Jack and Gabe weren’t actually on the side of evil. In the end, after all the bickering, problem solving and detective work, the group settled on the same solution they had when Reaper was actually in their custody. 

Wait and see what happens.

***

“Help me sweep the place for bugs before we settle in,” Gabriel grumbled as the pair entered a small farm cottage in what Jack could only describe as the middle of nowhere. It was a quaint little house, that almost looked like some old couple lived there, complete with knickknacks, antique furniture and a stocked kitchen. 

“Bugs? But it’s a safe house…”

“Yeah, well. One of my associates seems to be in some sort of pole pissing contest with the entire world. I’m sure she bugged the place.”

“Then is it really safe to stay here?”

“Better than our other options,” Reaper grumbled. “Neither of us are very good at checking into hotels inconspicuously. Unless you packed us some disguises too…” 

“Well, I did pack some disguises, but I wasn’t sure really how to disguise, uh,” Jack gestured helplessly at Gabriel. “Sorry…”

“I wasn’t sure how to deal with it at first either,” Reaper said as he climbed on top of the kitchen table to check the light fixture, the antique creaked under his weight. 

Jack winced. “I’m so sorry…”

“No more of that. Or I’ll have to kill you. And that would be a real shame, considering I just got you back,” Gabriel muttered as he pulled a small device from the light’s shade. “Really? Here? It’s the most obvious spot...there has to be more.”

Jack smiled, shaking his head. “Well, your sense of humor hasn’t changed at all,” he said as he started in on his own bug hunt. 

“Eh, a little…”

Jack sighed. They’d talked extensively during their long drive to the house, after their pitstop. They had years of catching up to do. Jack apologized so many times Gabriel had started scolding him before he even finished saying it. 

They told each other their stories leading up to the explosion, and after. Gabriel was somewhat less than forthcoming about his time buried in the ground, and some of the events after, though Jack couldn’t blame him. Jack could already feel the trust starting to build between them again. Though blindly breaking Gabe out of his cell and abandoning Overwatch probably had more to do with it than any belated explanations Jack had to offer.

Jack survived the explosion out of sheer dumb luck. He suspected the same floor collapse that kept Gabriel’s body from being obliterated must have extended into the hallway, so he woke in a pocket of rubble. Though he really couldn’t remember much from that day. He had one hell of a concussion. 

Instead of stepping down off the table, Reaper turned into smoke, pouring down the edge and gliding smoothly out of the kitchen, and into the bedroom. His ability to do that never ceased to unnerve Jack. That anyone could do it was strange enough, but his friend? Though he suspected Gabe was doing it as much as possible to test Jack. It wasn’t the only thing Gabe was doing to test him. Jack caught the occasional oddly pointed question. When they approached the house he had Jack take the lead, while Gabe watched his back, armed, subtly putting him in Reaper’s mercy. It seemed he had been thoroughly convinced that Jack surviving the explosion was a sign he was really a traitor. Jack had gone a long way to undoing that belief, but such things took time. At least Gabe seemed to _want_ to believe.

Though he supposed the tests weren’t always bad. Like when he turned to mist in the car. A shiver ran down his spine at the memory. 

Jack carefully examined the underside of the coffee table, trying to hide the redness rapidly rising in his cheeks as he thought of the possibilities with that smoke. He ground his teeth as he felt along the wooden edge, thoroughly embarrassed with himself. The fantasy of that mist swirling over his skin again encroached on his mind so obtrusively he almost missed the small, metallic nub. Another listening device. 

“How many of these things do you think there are?” Jack asked as he pried the bug off the table with his thumb nail. He headed over to a shelf of tacky porcelain knick knacks and scowled. There were a lot of nooks to check.

“No idea, I would hope fewer than ten?” Gabe called from the bedroom. A few minutes later he drifted out, only mist from the waist down this time, black tendrils of smoke coiling out behind him as he floated by. He dropped three more bugs onto the center of the kitchen table with a loud clatter, which was no doubt deafening on the receiving end.

“I didn’t bring a scanning device, and without one there’s no way we can be sure we caught them all. Why bother?”

“I’d like at least _some_ attempt at privacy. Besides…” Gabriel trailed off as he slid over to Jack, solidifying entirely behind him. He slid his arms around Jack’s waist, and nuzzled into his neck, thoroughly distracting Jack from his sweep. “I remember how loud you used to get…” he whispered.

Jack shivered at the warm breath across his skin. He leaned back into Gabriel, slowly setting down the tacky porcelain cat statuette he’d been checking. Part of his mind told him he should hesitate. Suggest taking it slow. They’d only just found each other again. Only just started to mend what was lost, so much time had passed, they’d both changed so much. But who was he kidding? They would have fucked already right then and there in the car if Gabriel hadn’t put his boot through the window.

“Have you found one over here yet?” Gabe asked, his tone returning to business, though he kept his arms wrapped firmly around Jack’s waist.

Jack had to clear his throat to reply. “Not yet.”

Reaper grunted, leaning his chin on Jack’s shoulder, eyeing the shelf. “It’s going to be behind that tacky sugar skull thing.”

Jack blinked and reached for an ugly, cheaply molded piece of porcelain in the shape of a skull, with pink designs shoddily painted all over its surface. Sure enough, there was another listening device stuck to it.

“How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“That makes six?”

“There are probably a few more…” Gabe murmured, the arms around Jack’s waist suddenly dissolving and sliding away as Reaper continued his search of the house. Eventually they came up with nine bugs. Gabe scooped them all into a glass jar. He screwed on the lid, then after a few seconds of contemplation, gave it a few violent shakes, once again probably sending horrible noises to the receiving end. Jack chuckled.

“Are you _trying_ to antagonize whoever’s listening?”

“Yes.”

“Well. Okay then.” 

Reaper casually opened the front door, and set the jar outside on the step. He then turned and drifted back to Jack. He gently took Jack’s face in his hands, and guided their lips together for a slow, tender kiss. 

“So, now we’re alone…” Reaper purred, trailing off. “Probably.”

“So we are.” Jack said as Gabe’s fingers traced up to the edge of his visor, running along the edge. 

“May I?” he asked, tapping the visor. Jack hesitated. “Or don’t you trust me?”

“No, it’s not that. I just. Want to see you…” Jack said. He’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a quiet thread of mistrust rattling around in the back of his mind, but he was more than happy to ignore it. If Reaper betrayed him, turned on him here and now? Well, then that’s just how the story of Jack Morrison ended. 

“But what if I don’t want you to see me…”

Jack furrowed his brows at that, pulling back to look Gabriel in the eyes. He trailed his fingers through his salt and pepper hair, traced his strong jaw line, ran his thumb across his still plump, if marred lips. “But, Gabe…” Jack’s mind spun trying to come up with the words. He was finding himself in this position a lot the last few hours. So many things to say he couldn’t settle on just one. _I don’t care what you look like. You’re not a monster. I’ve wanted to see you for so long._ “You’re beautiful,” Jack finally blurted out, feeling stupid the second the words left his mouth, but he was pleased to see the faintest smile tug at the corner of Gabe’s lips.

“Regardless. Can you even wear that thing in the shower?” 

Jack blinked in surprise. “The shower?”

“It’s been weeks since I’ve even changed clothes. I may be mostly nanites now, but I still feel disgusting. I wouldn’t mind some...company.” 

Jack opened his mouth to comment, but closed it again with a faint chuckle. He had a point. Bathing in his prison wasn’t a particularly viable option, especially since he refused to even remove his gloves. Jack also suspected a bit of an ulterior motive to his request that Jack join him, in addition to the romantic one. During their bug sweep he made Jack check the bathroom over, and had barked suggestions on where to look from the hallway. The bathroom was tiny, and barely had enough space for the tub, and its only view to the outside was a minuscule window near the ceiling. 

Of course, the visor was water proof. Considering their battle in the ocean, Reaper should have been aware. Nonetheless, Jack reached up, and flicked the small switch near his ear, disengaging the visor. The world flickered before going dim and blurry. He gingerly slid the visor off and held it out to Gabe. If he wanted to make excuses, Jack wasn’t going to call him on it. Besides, this was no doubt another test.

“You’ll have to lead the way.”

Reaper gently took the visor, and quietly set it aside before he returned to Jack, taking his hands, staring at him silently for a long while. 

“Why are you doing this?” Reaper finally asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. Jack thought over his answer, he was half tempted to play dumb, ask for clarification, but he knew exactly what Gabe was asking. Jack’s gun was leaning up against the foot of the bed somewhere, well out of range, while Gabe’s shotguns were near by. Jack was blind, totally exposed, he didn’t even know where exactly Gabe set his visor. He’d once again been asked to put blind trust in Gabe, quite literally this time, and complied.

“Because I’m on your side now. And whatever I need to do to prove that to you? I’ll do it.”

“So. You really trust me.”

Jack shrugged a little. There was nothing to do but be honest at this point. “Not really. Not entirely. I want to trust you, but a lot has changed. We’ve both changed. I’ve been fighting for a long time, and I’ve been at your side for most of it. If we have to be enemies now? I’m done…” He practically held his breath, desperately wishing he could see Gabriel’s face. To see how his words affected him, if he believed them. 

Instead all he had to go by was the way Gabe gently squeezed his hands, and spoke in an almost choked off voice. “Come, this way…”

Gabe led him to the bathroom. Jack heard the water turn on before Gabe returned to him, sliding his jacket off his shoulders and leaning in to nuzzle his neck. They stood slowly undressing each other as the water grew warm. Jack relished the feeling of Gabe’s skin, his firm muscles under his hands, even if it was marred from time to time by what he assumed were those strange wounds. Fortunately Gabe didn’t seem to mind when he bumbled into them. Eventually, Jack’s fingers found the jagged ridge of a scar, a rough gash going across Gabe’s pec, over his heart. Jack smiled, tracing the familiar shape.

“I remember when you got this…” Jack said. “I damn near panicked when I saw it. Thought you were a goner for sure. Then you said…”

Gabe chuckled, filling in the words for him, “I’m fine, my ribs stopped it.” He ran a finger over Jack’s brow, tracing one of the scars there. “I don’t remember this one.”

Jack grunted, frowning. “Got that when the Swiss Headquarters…” he trailed off. 

Reaper shifted, kicking away the last of their garments before he leaned forward, pressing his lips against Jack’s scar. “It suits you.” 

With that, Gabe finally guided Jack into the tub. The water was hot, almost too hot as Jack climbed in. But after a few moments of having the spray hit his back Jack sighed, some of the tensions that had been knotting his shoulders and back melting away under the steady stream. Gabe joined him, leaning in to steal a few wet kisses before he stepped away for a moment. Jack blinked curiously as he heard him shuffling around in the tub, and was able to catch some movement. The scent of lavender and soap began to fill the room before Jack finally figured it out. He reached for Gabe, finding his arms, he slid his way down to his hands, taking the bar of soap from Gabe’s fingers with a smile. 

“Let me…” Jack purred, sliding the soap over Gabe’s chest, beginning to carefully wash him. Gabe grunted a noise of faint, tentative approval as Jack’s soapy hands began roaming his body. “You’ll have to tell me if I miss a spot. Or if you want me to stop.”

Jack was slow, methodical as he slid the bar of soap over Gabe’s skin, happily exploring every exposed inch, starting at his broad, muscular shoulders and slowly working his way down. At first it hurt that he couldn’t see Gabe. After those weeks wishing he could see him under that mask, and his whole outfit, he wanted to see all of him. He’d always been the picture of perfection in Jack’s eyes. But as the shower went on, it was almost liberating. His hands slid smoothly over imperfections he may have cautiously avoided before, for fear of hurting his companion, but Gabriel didn’t react, didn’t even flinch, the wounds really didn’t seem to cause him any discomfort. 

As the soap rinsed off, Jack started following up with his lips and tongue. Gabriel sucked in a sharp hiss when Jack got to his fingers, shivering with pleasure and stifling a slight moan as Jack sucked one into his mouth. Jack was again surprised when the finger didn’t quite feel right, the nail was missing. Though from his companions reaction that didn’t seem like a problem, if anything it was probably even more sensitive. 

Jack got to his knees as he ran the soap down Gabriel’s legs and feet, smoothing his hand over his skin, rinsing the soap off, carefully avoiding his groin for the time being, licking and kissing his meaty thighs once the suds rinsed away. He soaped up Gabriel’s plump, muscular ass, before finally sliding the bar up between his legs.

Gabriel was already hard. Jack really would have been quite disappointed if he wasn’t considering how aroused he was, blindly groping and caressing his former lover. Hopefully, now renewed lover. Sure, they were both getting on in years now, but he felt young again, he might as well have been sixteen for how hard his cock throbbed, and how his lips and fingers tingled with excitement. Even blind, smelling like soap and lavender, his lover’s skin was intoxicating. He savored every inch of him.

He slid his soap slicked hand up and down Gabriel’s length, massaging, half pretending he was actually focused on cleaning. Though after a time he sank into a steady, methodical rhythm as he trailed his lips across Gabriel’s hip bone, and gingerly bit down. Gabriel's stifled a moan, rocking slightly on his feet, hissing Jack’s name through clenched teeth. 

Jack set aside the bar of soap and rinsed Gabe off. He started nibbling his way over to his cock. He took Gabe’s length in one hand, lining his eager lips up to the tip before he hesitated as Gabe ran his fingers through his wet hair.

“Jack…” He gasped again.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jack asked, peering up, though all he could see was a gray-brown blurr. His knees were getting sore against the hard porcelain tub, but he was practically salivating with anticipation. He was sure it showed, and again wished he could see Gabriel’s expression, especially after he uttered his breathy response.

“No…”

Jack smiled and eagerly dove in, sliding his lips over the head of Gabriel’s cock. He bobbed his head a few times, licking and tasting his way along Gabe’s length. It was smooth, firm, warm, he loved the way it filled his mouth. Though as the water coursed down his face, over his nose, it made it hard to breath. 

As Jack pulled away to gasp for air, he ran his hands over Gabriel’s hips, cupping his ass. He slid Gabriel into his mouth again, taking him all the way to the hilt, practically purring at the sensation of his length sliding down his throat. 

“God, how do you do that…” Gabriel choked out, his breath ragged. Jack had to suppress a triumphant grin as he came up, before diving right back in. Gabriel gripped at his hair, grasping. It wasn’t long before Gabriel choked out a warning that he was going to cum. Jack gripped his ass, burying his nose in Gabriel’s pubes, forcing his cock down his throat as Gabriel went rigid, his cock pulsing as hot spurts of salty, and oddly metallic liquid down Jack’s throat.

Jack slowly pulled away, running his hands up Gabriel’s heaving chest as he climbed back to his feet. Gabe began working on returning the favor almost the second Jack stood up, nipping and biting his way down, drawing shivers of pleasure, and the occasional startled jump when he’d feel teeth somewhere he didn’t expect, or a little harder than anticipated. His knees were practically shaking when he felt Gabe’s lips wrap around his cock. It didn’t take long before he came across Gabriel’s tongue, swearing and clutching at Gabriel’s shoulders as he did.

Jack nuzzled against Gabriel’s neck once he stood back up, while Gabe ran his fingers through Jack’s hair, leaning into him, as they both recovered. Jack pulled him close, savoring the sensation of Gabe’s wet, naked body against his. It was perfect. It felt like he was home.

His love for Gabe had always bordered on obsession. It was a blind devotion. It seized Jack one day, and never let go. It only grew, evolved, and deepened as time went on. Having it all come rushing back, collapsing in around him, taking over his mind again as he stood naked with Gabriel in his arms was overwhelming. He clung desperately to Gabriel, tears stinging his eyes. 

“Gabe. Gabriel...I missed you. I missed you so much. God, I love you. I’ve always loved you. I never stopped loving you...Gabe,” Jack choked out, the words tumbling out unbidden, halted and stuttered through his tears. Part of him felt foolish, clutching Gabriel, squeezing him, burying his face in his shoulder while tears streamed down his face and choked sobs gripped his chest. But there was no holding it back. 

Gabriel tightened his grip, holding Jack close, pressing his lips to his hair. “I love you too, Jack,” Gabriel whispered, his voice shaky. The two stood under the steady stream of water, pressed close, clinging desperately, rocking, silently holding one another. As they stood, it felt like years of sorrow and longing were being washed down the drain along with their tears.

***

Jack jolted awake as their truck hit a pothole. He grunted and stretched stiffly, dragging his feet off the dashboard. One of his legs was almost completely asleep now. He grumbled as the pins and needles started flooding in. Gabriel chuckled, glancing at him from the driver’s seat. 

“‘Morning, sunshine.”

They were actually riding in a car with wheels. Apparently the rough roads to Gabriel’s truly off the grid hideout were bad enough that many hover vehicles had difficulty with them. 

Jack peered bleary eyed out the window. It was all sun baked earth, hills, scrub brush and the occasional stunted, scraggly juniper as far as the eye could see. They bumped their way down a shoddy gravel road, throwing up clouds of dust in their wake.

“You’re right...this is the middle of nowhere,” Jack said through a yawn. 

After they got some rest, Gabriel “borrowed” a tube of makeup from the safehouse, and scrubbed his complexion into some semblance of human. They scraped together some fake identification and disguises between what was available in the safe house and what Jack packed. Gabe made sure to inform the listening devices that he used all her foundation, and that she’d need to restock the house. Jack had to laugh and shake his head at the whole thing. He had a few vague guesses at who the makeup-wearing associate could possibly be, considering how much time he’d spent tracking Reaper before now, but it still wasn’t the kind of dynamic he anticipated. 

Reaper told Jack he had another safe house that not even his associates knew about, though he, understandably, refused to say where. They managed to slip on-board a passenger airliner with minimal trouble, and touched down in California, at which point they stole a car. They’d been driving for hours. They were already far out in the country when Jack fell asleep. 

“We’re almost there. It’s nice out here, a little colder than I would like but…” Gabe trailed off as Jack peered out the window, then turned to him, looking incredulous.

“Gabe. We’re in the middle of a desert.”

“It’s chilly at night. And in winter.”

Jack smiled, still trying to shake the pins and needles out of his leg. “So what you’re saying is it’s not as disgustingly stuffy as Los Angeles.”

“Exactly. There’s even frost sometimes.”

After a few minutes, they pulled off the gravel road to a dirt driveway, and eventually came to a quaint ranch house. Jack hopped out as soon as they rolled to a stop, stretching stiffly, while Gabe grabbed their bags, including their carefully concealed weapons, from the back. Jack tensed as he heard the distinctive sound of a gun cocking. He turned slowly towards a ratty tool shed, spotting a tall, black haired woman aiming an old double barreled shotgun at him. He wasn’t sure if he’d simply been off his guard after the long ride, or if she was especially stealthy, appearing like that. Knowing Gabriel’s friends, it could easily have been either. 

“Who the fuck are you,” she demanded.

“Oh calm down, he’s with me,” Gabe barked as he rounded the truck. She lowered the shotgun with a shrug, propping its barrel in the dirt and leaning on it instead. 

“Hey, you’re back. We were starting to think you died.”

“You wish,” Gabe grumbled, a faint smirk twisting his lips. Jack glanced between the two in confusion, he hadn’t mentioned anything about this woman. Jack assumed the safe house they were headed to would be completely empty.

“Then who is he, your boyfriend?” The woman asked with a taunting edge to her voice.

“Yes,” Gabe responded flatly.

“Oh-” she blinked, color quickly beginning to rise to her cheeks. “I mean. I was kidding but uh. Huh. Nice to meet you? Sorry about the shotgun…”

Gabriel sighed, picking up on Jack’s confusion. “Jack, this is Penelope. Penelope, Jack. She and her partner Doreen look after the place while I’m gone.” 

Penelope smiled at Jack, making a gesture like she was tipping the brim of her invisible hat in greeting. “A pleasure. I’ll leave you two to...whatever,” she said before scurrying away, shotgun propped against her shoulder. Gabe sighed.

“Don’t mind her. She’s...like that. They’re a couple of ex-cons. But trustworthy,” Gabe explained once she was out of earshot. “Helped them get away from some bad players.”

Jack shook his head, trying not to laugh. “Are those their...real names?”

“Nah,” Gabe slung their bags over his shoulder, and gestured past the house, where a secondary cabin sat nestled beside some stunted trees. “This way.”

When they were about halfway to the cabin, Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks as the frantic scrabble of small feet and yapping came barreling up from behind them. He shoved the bags into Jack’s arms and whirled about, greeting what was without question the ugliest little chihuahua Jack had ever seen. Gabe’s face lit up as he scooped the mangy looking dog into his arms, while the frantic, shaking creature tried to climb up his chest, whining and licking at his face. The dog was wild eyed, and seemed to be missing some teeth, along with large patches of hair. 

“Oh! There’s my precious Pepita, Daddy missed you,” Gabriel cooed. Jack tried not to gape, but ended up simply laughing instead. He then noticedd a second small dog wobbling up to them. The second one was a slow moving dachshund with one eye clouded over, sporting patches of gray along his muzzle, his tail wagging lazily. Once Gabriel spotted him, he scooped up the second dog as well. 

Jack smiled at the happy reunion, eventually reaching out to try and pet one of the dogs, but the chihuahua turned on him in a furious ball of teeth and yapping, snapping at his hand. 

“Careful, she does that. Bad, Peptia, Jack’s a friend,” Gabriel scolded, in a tone that was far from sounding like a reprimand, more of a gentle cooing if anything. 

“I didn’t know you liked dogs…” Jack said, unsure he could really classify the ugly, tiny creatures as dogs. Gabriel set them down after giving each a kiss on the head, nodding.

“I suppose I didn’t used to, but I found both of them. And they were ugly and abandoned...Felt something of a kinship with them, I guess. Especially poor Pepita and her. Uh. Skin condition…” Reaper said, gesturing to the mangy looking chihuahua as she sniffed cautiously at Jack’s boot, freezing and growling fiercely when he even dared to so much as shifted his weight. “And she’s fierce.” He chuckled, tapping Jack on the shoulder. “Guess what I named the other one,” he said quietly, leaning against Jack’s shoulder. Jack, for his part, couldn’t move while still under Pepita’s scrutiny. 

“What?”

“Frank. You know why?”

Jack blinked, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. “When I was a kid, the neighbor’s dog...Frank...you remembered?”

Gabriel nodded. “Mm…” He smiled at Jack. “And he’s a frankfurter.” Jack groaned at the joke, while Gabriel laughed. “But yes, I also thought of you…”

It turned out Gabriel didn’t live in the house, he lived in a small secondary cabin. Jack was surprised when he they went inside, tiny dogs trailing close behind them. It was smaller than he would have imagined, considering Gabriel’s aversion to tight spaces, but still quite open. The bed was tucked away in a loft over the small kitchen. A dainty carpeted ramp ran up the entire wall of the cabin, allowing the dog’s access to the upper level. The cabin also featured a massive skylight, and far more windows than he would usually expect. 

Once their bags were set aside, Gabriel looped his arms around Jack, pulling him close with a soft smile. 

“You know, when you said you wanted to retire on a nice quiet farm? It stuck with me. I think I told myself I set up a safe house out here to be off the grid...so I could go outside without needing to hide my face. Really I think I was just. Wishing I could live that quiet life. But I couldn’t just settle in and retire, after what they did to me. What I thought they did to you. And now here you are…”

Jack smiled back, trailing his fingers through Gabriel’s hair. “Are you telling me you want to retire now?”

Gabe shrugged a shoulder, a crooked smile creeping onto his lips. “No. Not yet at least. But now that I have you back, I don’t necessarily have to die with my boots on.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” Jack said, as leaned forward to steal a kiss. “Though I’ll admit, I had something a little...greener in mind for that country farm.” He chuckled as he watched Pepita trot up the dog ramp to the loft. “I was also imagining a slightly larger dog.

“Yeah… a desert ranch managed by a pair of lesbian pot farmers probably wasn’t what you had in mind...but you have to admit it’s pretty nice.”

“It is,” Jack said, leaning into Gabriel’s arms. The two stood in silence, simply holding one another. Jack relished just feeling Gabe’s warm, solid weight pressed against him, breathing in his scent. He could have stood like that for hours, though he was alerted when Gabriel suddenly went stiff. 

“What is it?” Jack asked.

“I...Just saw a goat run by,” Gabriel said, pulling back, staring out the window.

“What.”

“Since when do I own a goat?” Gabe asked as Jack turned to look out the window as well, just in time to see a beleaguered red haired woman in overalls run by, and heard the distant calls of _get back here you fucker!_ A few moments later, the goat came stampeding past the window again, this time with Penelope on its heels, yelling a string of profanity. _I swear to fucking Christ it’s goat soup tonight you shifty motherfucker-_

_Pen! Calm down! You’re scaring him._

_Asshole should be scared!_

“Uh. Do you think we should help them?” Jack asked as Gabe groaned, running a hand over his face. 

“Probably. I doubt we’ll get any peace until this is dealt with. I suppose I can wait until evening to have you all to myself…” Gabriel purred, sliding his hand across Jack’s cheek, before he let his fingers dissolve to smoke, slithering through Jack’s hair, cupping his ear, and sliding down the collar of his shirt all at once. Jack tried to suppress a shudder of pleasure at the feeling, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. Gabe chuckled softly.

“How did I get so lucky...to fall in love with a man with a smoke monster fetish.”

“I do not have a smoke monster fetish!” Jack snapped, his cheeks suddenly burning as Gabriel withdrew his hand. 

“Mmhmm…”

The two headed out, and helped the women heard the goat back into its pen. Gabriel was mildly dismayed to find he was now the owner of three goats. Though this was apparently not the first time the women decided to bring unauthorized animals onto the ranch. In the end they convinced him the goats were, in fact, cute, and needed a home.

They spent the rest of the day settling in. Gabe showed him the rest of the property, including the chickens, (the first unauthorized addition,) and a geriatric donkey. Eventually Jack formally met Doreen, who even invited them in for dinner. It was all amazingly pleasant, and borderline surreal. 

The sun sank below the horizon by the time dinner was over. The two made their way back to the cabin, dogs eagerly following on their heels. As soon as the door shut behind them, Gabe pulled Jack into an embrace. His hands slid under Jack’s clothes, starting to undress him. Though Jack hesitated when it came to removing Gabriel’s clothes. 

“Are you sure? Should I...my visor…” Jack said, hesitantly.

Gabriel smiled at him. “It’s okay. I want you to see me this time.” With that Jack happily pulled Gabe’s shirt off. Jack smiled, his eyes trailing down Gabriel’s chest. Like he assumed, the unfortunate, discolored skin and ever shifting black wounds on his face and hands continued all over his body, some spreading quite large over his chest and abdomen. But he was still Gabriel. He reached his hands out, easing forward, his smile growing.

“You’re still perfect…” Jack whispered.

Gabriel leaned in again, pulling Jack into a passionate kiss, biting his lip so hard it stung. He grabbed Jack’s ass, his fingers digging in as he crushed their bodies together. Jack couldn’t help but moan against Gabriel’s lips at the onslaught. Then he felt the strangest sensation as Gabriel quite literally melted against him, slowly evaporating to mist and enveloping him, swirling around him, sliding over every inch of skin at once. Jack gasped at the all consuming embrace, his eyes rolling back and his knees nearly buckling at the overwhelming sensation. After a few, long, pleasure soaked moments Gabriel withdrew, a triumphant smile on his lips as he kissed Jack again, holding him steady with strong, firm arms.

“Smoke monster fetish,” Gabe teased in Jack’s ear. Jack chuckled.

“Fine, you caught me. God that feels amazing…”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The two somehow found their way to the bed, and made love for what felt like hours, lost in a tender sea of caresses and pleasure, bordering on joy. Eventually they collapsed on the bed together, side by side, sweaty and exhausted, staring up at the star speckled night sky through the cabin’s immense skylight. Jack pressed a few lingering kisses along Gabriel’s jawline as the man stared up at the night sky.

“You know,” Gabriel murmured after a time. “When we first got together I remember always...being amazed at all the things that were so familiar with you. But also so new. It’s like I was getting to know my best friend all over again. Only closer. I loved it,” he purred, running his fingers lightly down Jack’s chest. “I guess the good news is, I get to do that again.”

Jack smiled. “I felt the same way.” He finally shifted onto his back, staring up at the glittering stars. He hadn’t seen a night sky this clear and beautiful in years. He found Gabriel’s hand in the dark, giving it a squeeze, smiling as peace and contentment filled him. “I look forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END  
> \- yas finally! Thank you all for sticking with me through this!  
> -I hope to eventually write more smaller stories within this "universe" as it were, but life is eating my brain! So don't hold your breath! But there might be such things as stupid dog adventures, Tracer and McCree shenanigans, "Talon" Widow/Sombra/Reaper Brosquad, and possibly consentacles . Maybe. We'll see. Let me know if there's anything you'd be extra excited to see, haha.  
> -ETA: Figure I might as well plop my tumblr in here since I've been MIA for so long, if you want to hunt me down you can find me at lordcephalopod.tumblr.com  
> \- Once again, thanks for reading! <3


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